Closet Confusion
by DarthRoden aka Carl
Summary: Helga and Gerald have never been the best of friends, indeed they have never been on more than barely agreeable terms. But what happens when you add Curly's latest crazy scheme to woo Rhonda? A perfect example of Murphy's Law and lots of humor! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Closet Confusion**

By DarthRoden

"_Anything that can go wrong will go wrong."_ - _Murphy's Law_

**Chapter One: Cafeteria Confrontation**

1

It was lunch period for the fourth graders at PS 118 and as usual the cafeteria was packed with nine and ten-year-olds. The noise level was at its usual loud decibels as students sat at their regular tables, talking and laughing among their friends as they ate.

Gerald stood in line with his best friend Arnold getting their food. It was a good selection for once: spaghetti with meat sauce and rolls, with a choice of applesauce, or lime gelatin with fruit cocktail inside, Gerald's favorite lunch.

"Man, oh man, Arnold, this is what I'm talking about," Gerald said as the prune-faced cafeteria lady scooped a large helping of spaghetti on his tray. "Sunny skies outside, a whole period of recess to look forward to, and on top of that, half the school day is over and one of my favorite lunches is being served. What could be better than this?"

Arnold thought about it a moment then answered, "Well, how about if today was Friday instead of Thursday?"

Gerald grinned a little, "Good point there."

Still even that small observation didn't spoil Gerald's good mood. He picked up a cup of lime gelatin, then a carton of white milk and set them down on his tray. Arnold opted for chocolate milk instead. He looked back at the line of students behind them and saw Phoebe standing there, holding two trays in both hands and trying hard to balance them. Both trays were full of food and two milks and one had a large double chocolate milkshake with a bendy straw on it. She was doing her best to keep everything balanced while some taller kids just bumped into her without another glance. Her glasses were slightly crooked and she looked a bit nervous.

One of the taller kids near Phoebe accidentally elbowed her and she lost her balance and landed on the floor on her stomach. The contents of her overloaded trays fell on top of her, completely covering her with food as both the trays hit the ground with a pair of loud rattles.

Gerald set his tray down and rushed quickly over to her side. He knelt down beside her. "Phoebe! Are you okay?" Arnold appeared on her other side and both of them helped Phoebe sit up.

"Yeah, I think so," Phoebe said looking a little done in. Chocolate milkshake covered her hair and shoulders. She removed her milkshake covered glasses and tried to clean the lenses.

"Allow me," Gerald said, taking them from her and cleaning them off with a napkin. He handed them back to her.

Phoebe blushed a little underneath her chocolate covered bangs and smiled, "Thank you, Gerald." He grinned at her in a flirty way and winked at her. "Anytime, babe." Gerald offered a hand to Phoebe, who took it helping her stand up, both of them were smiling.

"Criminy! What the _heck_ is going on here?!" A loud, bossy female voice suddenly said behind Gerald. He turned and frowned when he saw Helga G. Pataki headed their way. Arnold looked over as well and blinked. Gerald knew that he was mentally preparing himself for the prospect of dealing with his arch nemesis once again.

Helga stopped in front of them and looked at Phoebe, ignoring both Arnold and Gerald. "What happened to you, Phoebe?" For a moment there, Gerald actually thought he saw a flash of concern for Phoebe cross her face, but he knew that Phoebe's well being was probably not foremost on Helga's mind.

Phoebe answered, "I was trying to get our lunch like you asked, Helga. However everything got mixed up and then someone bumped me and I accidentally fell and dropped all of it."

Helga blinked and her eyes widened. "You dropped my _lunch_!" Gerald frowned at Helga as she continued. "You spilled my double chocolate milkshake with the bendy-straw! Oh that's just great!" She scowled down at the smaller girl.

Phoebe looked like she was cringing slightly. "I'm sorry, Helga. It's my fault."

"Of course it is _doi_!" Helga said sarcastically, throwing her arms out in a wide gesture. "Now, thanks to you, I don't have any lunch today!"

"Calm down, Helga," Arnold said just then, trying his best to speak to her in a calm, reasonable way. "It wasn't Phoebe's fault. It was just an accident."

"Oh, butt out,_ Football-head_," Helga said, now turning her full attention onto Arnold, who frowned a little at her usual mocking nickname for him. "Nobody asked you for _your_ opinion!" Then she reached over and pulled an open carton of chocolate milk from a smaller kid's tray and then turned it upside down over Arnold's head, drenching him. All around the cafeteria kids pointed and laughed at Arnold, who stood there, dripping with chocolate milk.

Gerald became really mad just then at the way Helga treated Phoebe and Arnold. Usually whenever Helga pulled one of her mean-spirited pranks on Arnold, he just stood there backing up his best friend, but never really saying anything. He would watch while Arnold endured all of the bully's sarcasm and tongue-lashings, only later speaking to Arnold about it after she'd left.

However today was different. Today she insulted _both_ Arnold and Phoebe, whom he always felt very warm towards.

At first his feelings for the small dark-haired girl were little more than a simple crush, which over time turned into a bit more, even though outwardly they just remained really good friends, despite her association with Helga Pataki. Sometimes Gerald always thought about wanting more. Making their sort-of relationship more an official one. He had no idea if Phoebe wanted the same, despite her own shyness whenever she was around him.

Now, watching Helga berate Phoebe and then humiliate Arnold again, Gerald did something then that he normally didn't do—he stood up against Helga G. Pataki.

"Look here, Helga," he began, actually taking a step toward her and pointing a finger right in Helga's face. She actually blinked looking cross-eyed at it. "Maybe if you didn't treat your best friend like she was your own personal servant and get your own lunch, none of this would have happened! Don't take this out on her, or Arnold!"

Helga was shocked at first that_ Tall-Hair-Boy_ would have the guts to talk to her like that. Shocked and slightly anxious too, since he looked mad and was actually just as tall as she was (aside from the hair). She recovered from Gerald's outburst and slapped his hand away from her face angrily. "Mind your own business, Gerald-o!"

Gerald took another step toward her, narrowing the gap and getting into her personal space. He looked her eye to eye. "My friends _are_ my business, Helga!"

"Phoebe is_ my_ best friend, _Tall-Hair-Boy_!" Helga said angrily and a bit on the defensive.

"Then why don't you treat her like it sometime?!" Gerald shot back, actually making Helga take a step back.

Helga realized everyone in the cafeteria was watching and her reputation was at stake if she took another step back. She curled up her fist and said angrily, _"You better get outta my face, before you end up wearing my knuckle-prints all over yours!"_

Most of Gerald's adrenalin suddenly evaporated when Helga said that. Gerald had no doubts in his mind that she would do _exactly_ as she said. Helga had been known to sock Brainy a lot, as well as bully around kids bigger than her, like Harold and Stinky. Plus, Gerald would never hit a girl, not even a tomboy like Helga.

Helga saw the uncertain look that crossed his face and smirked, knowing she had him. She shoved him hard and pushed him back against the lunch line, where he stumbled, but somehow managed to keep from falling. "Gerald!" Arnold was at his best friend's side a second later.

"Just what I thought," mocked Helga, with her usual nasty chuckle. "All bark and no bite!" Even though she smirked, Helga felt nothing but relief that Gerald backed down, but didn't show it. She covered with her usual mocking laughter.

Gerald frowned at her and his hand slid over to the tray of lime gelatin beside him. He grabbed one and threw it at Helga, hitting her in the chest. She let out a small shriek of surprise and looked down at the green goo and fruit cocktail splattered all over her pink dress.

Now the kids in the cafeteria and the lunch line pointed and laughed at the sight of Helga G. Pataki with green goo dripping from her. Helga let out an angry growl and began to stalk toward Gerald, eyes blazing and fists clenched.

For his part Gerald was starting to wonder if he pushed too far. Helga looked ready to deck him and he knew he'd never hit back.

Phoebe grabbed her left arm and said, "Helga, calm down!" Helga tried to shake her off. At the same time Arnold got between them and faced Helga. "Helga stop, Principal Wartz is coming over!" Helga stopped and looked over seeing the balding school principal coming over, frowning at them.

"What's going on over here?!" The principal demanded, looking at the four of them as if they were all troublemakers.

"Oh, um, there was a little accident in the lunch line," Arnold said, talking fast. "Phoebe fell over and a bunch of food got splattered, don't worry, we'll clean it up." The other three nodded looking the picture of innocence.

Wartz looked at all of them suspiciously, especially Helga (much to her annoyance) and then said, "Very well, you better see to cleaning yourself up as well, and you try and be more careful in the future, Miss Heyerdahl." Phoebe nodded meekly and answered, "Yes sir." He walked away headed toward the back of the cafeteria.

Helga watched him go, and then looked at Phoebe. "Come on, Feebs, let's get outta here and get this crap off of us!" She looked back at Gerald glaring and pointed at his chest. "And you better just stay the _heck_ outta my way, _Tall-Hair-Boy_, got it?!"

Gerald just frowned at Helga and said, "Whatever, Helga." He turned away totally dismissing her. Helga frowned once more and stomped off grumbling with Phoebe just behind her. Phoebe turned and looked back at Gerald a moment and waved meekly at him. Gerald smiled a little and waved back as the two girls left the cafeteria together.

* * *

2

In the girl's bathroom a few minutes later, Helga grumbled as she took a wet paper towel and did her best to clean off the lime gelatin that covered almost the whole front of her pink dress.

"Stupid _Tall-Hair-Boy_ throwing food at me! Where the heck does he get off doing something like that?!" She frowned as she looked in the mirror and saw the extent of the damage. It would take almost the rest of the school day to dry.

Next to her, Phoebe was drying her hair off with the hot air dryer normally used for drying hands. She'd gotten far worse from when all the food spilled on top of her. Luckily with Helga's help she did manage to get nearly all of it off without too much staining. The worst part had been the chocolate in her hair, which she had to wash out in the sink and dry off with a lot of painful hair squeezing.

Phoebe turned her head to look at her and dry off the other side of her head. "Helga, you didn't have to get into a verbal confrontation with Gerald like that." She refrained from berating Helga about her actions towards Arnold, knowing that Helga's manner of hiding her less than hidden feelings (at least from everyone else) for the football-headed boy were not her business. It was an unspoken rule they both had and Phoebe went along with Helga's usual denial when it came to Arnold.

When it came to Gerald though, Phoebe felt the need to speak up in his defense.

Helga just frowned and said, "Well he shouldn't have gotten in my face like he did. Criminy, why didn't he just stay out of the way like he always does when I mess around with _Arnold-o_?"

Phoebe suspected that Gerald was just fed up with what he considered Helga's anti-social attitude toward his best friend - and to her. The idea made Phoebe smile briefly as she continued to dry her hair.

Helga sighed and looked at her, momentarily forgetting about her anger at Gerald. In one regard, _Tall- Hair-Boy_ did have a point. "Listen, Feebs," she said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "About before, I'm sorry I blew up at you like I did. I just had enough money for that one lunch thanks to Miriam forgetting to make my lunch again, and I guess I just lost it back there."

Phoebe pulled her nearly dry hair out from under the hand dryer and looked at Helga sympathetically. "It's okay Helga, and I'm really sorry about spilling your lunch."

Helga shrugged and said, "Forget about it, I'll survive till I get home, I mean it's not like I'm gonna starve to death." Her stomach growled then. Phoebe looked at Helga, who just grinned sheepishly at her.

Phoebe smiled knowing that Helga was just putting on a brave front for her. It was one of the things that Phoebe both admired and feared about her best friend. She acted so tough and mean to the world, but once you got past Helga's outer exterior and saw the person she was without all of her masks, she was really a good friend deep down.

Phoebe also cared about Gerald a lot and really loved hanging around with him, as friends and lately as slightly more than just friends—at least she hoped that Gerald saw it that way too.

While Phoebe understood that Helga's manner towards Arnold was just her usual way of getting his attention, she could certain understand how Gerald would see it as just bullying from someone that he really had little use for in the first place. She only wished that Gerald could somehow see this side of Helga, the way she was behind all the scowling and taunts.

Unfortunately, it didn't look as if that would happen anytime soon, especially after the verbal and near-physical confrontation that both parties just went through.

_Shigata ga nai,_ Phoebe thought to herself and sighed.

Finally Helga was done getting cleaned up. She turned to her and said, "Come on, Phoebe, let's go the playground before recess is over."

"Coming," Phoebe said cheerfully and followed the scowling pigtailed girl out the door.

* * *

3

Meanwhile, a similar situation was going on in the boy's bathroom. Arnold was using the sink to wash out the chocolate milk in his hair while Gerald was over by the hand dryers doing his best to dry Arnold's hat off after rinsing it out. It would be awhile before the hat would be dry again, and even then it would probably smell like chocolate milk for awhile or at least till Arnold was able to get it washed better with some good-smelling detergent.

Gerald watched as Arnold rang his blonde hair out over the sink. "I think I got most of it out, Gerald," Arnold told him, walking over to the dryer. He then did his best to dry out his hair some more. "It's going to take all day to dry off."

"Yeah, well, at least you won't be the only one who'll be drying out all day," Gerald said, with a particularly vindictive smirk at the thought of Helga walking around with a lime gelatin stain on her front for the rest of the day.

Arnold looked over at Gerald and said, "You know, Gerald, you didn't have to pick a fight with Helga back there."

Gerald snorted. "Well I had to get back at her for shoving me the way she did. Besides, she didn't have any business picking on you and Phoebe."

Nodding, Arnold replied, "Yeah, something must have been bothering her. Helga was in a really bad mood today."

"Arnold, Helga was _born_ in a bad mood," Gerald said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Still, did you have to throw lime gelatin on her like that?" Arnold asked, rubbing out his hair under the hot air. "I mean, you and Helga could have both gotten detention if Principal Wartz had seen you. The best thing you could have done is ignore her, like I do."

"Oh yeah, Arnold, that plan works _so_ well with you," Gerald said rolling his eyes.

Arnold just shrugged and finished drying off his hair. It was still a little wet, but nothing he couldn't deal with. He put his hat back on and looked in the mirror adjusting it. "Well it's better than stooping to her level. Fighting her won't solve anything; it'll just create more trouble."

"Arnold, why do you do that?" Gerald asked, looking at him curiously.

"Do what?" Arnold asked.

"Why do you just put up with Helga's crap like that? I mean, almost every day the girl picks on you, teases you, calls you names like _'Football-head'_ and _'Hair-boy'_ and_ 'Paste-For-Brains'_ and—"

"Um, Gerald, what's your point?" Arnold said, turning his head and looking at Gerald through an annoyed, half-lidded gaze.

"My point is, why don't you just get back at her, or at least stand up for yourself more often?"

Arnold looked down a moment and said, hesitantly, "I - I have my reasons, okay?"

Gerald could see from where he was standing that something was working behind Arnold's eyes, and not just one of his usual daydreams.

"What's that supposed to mean? What reasons?" Gerald walked over to him, looking at Arnold intently.

"Well, among other things, I don't think that Helga is really that mean deep down," Arnold told him.

Gerald looked at him; disbelief was etched on his dark face. "You're kidding, right?"

Arnold shook his head, "No, Gerald, I'm serious."

"Arnold, this is Helga G. Pataki we're talking about here. The girl picks on you all the time, and pushes you around, and bully's the rest of the class. And you don't think she's all that mean?!" Gerald looked at Arnold incredulously.

Nodding, the football-headed boy said, "That's right."

"Why on earth would you think that?" Gerald asked Arnold, looking at him intently, trying to understand his friend's point of view.

Arnold thought for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. Finally he said, "Because I know that there's more to Helga than just a loud, bossy, scowling bully. That's just one side of her, what she shows on the outside. Helga . . . well, Helga has layers."

"So do ogres," Gerald added, unable to help himself.

"Gerald," Arnold said, though he grinned slightly.

Smiling, Gerald said, "Sorry man, go on."

Arnold continued, "If you look past all the scowling and the bullying, she also has a nice, normal side that isn't so bad. In fact, in many ways, that other side of her is pretty okay." Gerald thought he must have been seeing things, but for a moment there, he thought that he saw Arnold smile slightly.

"I think most of the reason Helga acts the way she does is to hide that other side so people don't notice, or make fun of her for it." Arnold said, finishing his explanation.

Gerald shook his head in disbelief. "Um, um, um. Arnold, you're either crazy, or a hopeless optimist, my friend."

Arnold just smiled at him in a knowing way. "Trust me, Gerald. Helga does have another side, even if she doesn't show it very often."

"Try never," Gerald said, still unconvinced.

Arnold just shrugged and said, "Maybe someday you'll see what I'm talking about for yourself."

Even as he said those words, Arnold wondered if that would ever happen. Neither Gerald or Helga were ever on more than barely tolerable terms at the best of times. After this confrontation things between the two of them were worse than ever, and unlikely to improve anytime in the near future.

Gerald rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Arnold."

Arnold sighed and thought, _oh well, what can you do?_

As they exited the bathroom, Gerald thought about what Arnold said thinking that his friend really _was_ a hopeless optimist. _Helga G. Pataki? Having another softer, kinder side?_ _Yeah right,_ he thought to himself totally unconvinced. _I'll believe it when I see it. _

He wasn't going to hold his breath waiting for it to happen.

* * *

4

Outside at the picnic area near the playground, Curly was standing by a couple of garbage cans, admiring the vision of loveliness sitting over at one of the outside tables eating her lunch. "There you are my pretty, pretty pet," Curly chuckled loudly to himself as he gazed at his dark-haired love goddess.

Actually, Rhonda wasn't really eating, but sitting there letting her food get cold while she gossiped to the other forth grade girls sitting with her. Nadine, Sheena, and Lila all listened as Rhonda droned on and on about Big Patty's new look. The larger girl had a serious over-bite and had to go to the dentist to get it corrected. As a result the poor girl was doomed to spend the rest of the school year and possibly the first of the summer months with a mouth full of temporary braces and some head gear to keep her teeth as straight as possible in the meantime. She looked like a villain on one of those spy movies, or even a sci-fi monster.

Of course nobody was about to say so to her face. Anyone who did might find themselves on the receiving end of a serious beating. Big Patty was larger than almost anyone else in the sixth grade, and tougher than most of the boys.

Curly watched her, lost in his own obsessive thoughts about having her as his girlfriend. For real, this time, not like the time he had to blackmail her into being his girlfriend for a week. He just knew that if only he could find some way to get her alone, then he could make her his own.

He sat down against the wall, hiding behind the garbage cans and thinking aloud to himself.

"I must come up with some cleaver scheme to get Rhonda and me alone somehow so she can fall for my charms and good looks." Curly grinned beneath his glasses, and then added, "After all, who in their right mind would turn down all this?"

There were some giggles from nearby and Curly frowned losing his ego-driven vision of himself. He looked over to see who was giggling and saw a pair of sixth grade girls walking by with their trays toward the garbage cans. He slunk down lower as they approached. They were both babbling about something, and Curly could hear them as they got closer.

"So anyhow, what do you think that Tony did?" The first one said, in an overly annoying bubbly voice. "He wrote an anonymous note telling me of his undying love for me and left it in my locker, telling me to meet him in the make-out closet behind the gym for some serious smooching."

The other girl gasped, "Oh-my-gosh, Lisa, you didn't?!" There was a pause and she let out a loud girlish giggle. "You really kissed him?!"

"All through most of the last period," the first girl said, sounding really giggly then. "I just couldn't help it, when he kissed me it was so awesome that I just fell for him right then and there. And now, were officially going out."

"You go girl!" The second one said, just as both girls dumped the contents of their trays in the cans Curly hid behind. They walked off giggling and talking more about the romantic rendezvous.

Curly stood up and he had a huge grin on his face. "That's it! That's how I'll get Rhonda to fall for my charms!" He paced a little as he continued to talk to himself. "I'll write an anonymous love note and slip it into Rhonda's locker telling her to meet me in the make-out closet and then when she shows up, I'll be there waiting to give a great my pretty pet Rhonda a big old smooch on the lips. She'll fall fast for my charms and at last Rhonda Wellington Lloyd will be my girlfriend!"

He threw back his head and laughed a loud, maniacal laugh just then that scared several younger kids nearby and made others look at him strangely before they walked away from the little weirdo.

He stopped himself a moment later and added with a small shrug, "Heck, even if it doesn't work, at the very least I'll get a smooch out of the whole thing." Then he walked off determined, ready to put phase one of "Operation Smooch Rhonda" into motion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Operation Smooch Rhonda**

1

Curly went to his locker and retrieved a spiral notebook and a red pen from inside. He was giggling madly to himself and was so caught up in the brilliance of his scheme that he wasn't watching where he was going and ran right into a large girl walking the other way.

"Hey why don't you - AHH!" Curly's eyes widened at the sight of the largest set of braces and headgear that he'd ever seen right in front of his face.

Big Patty scowled down at him; her usual frowning face was even more menacing with her new shinny headgear. Her dark eyes narrowed at him. "Why don't I _what_, geek?" Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.

Curly thought fast, not wanting to be flattened by the bully. "Why don't you, um—b-be more careful. Yeah, that's it. You don't want to have an accident and ruin your new look."

Big Patty leaned over him glaring fiercely. "Are you making fun of me?!" She demanded, looking ready to pummel him into the middle of next week.

Curly backed up at step hands up and talking really fast. "No, not at all, Patty! I love it! Your new braces make your mouth all—all sparkly and shinny! Like stars twinkling in the sky! Brings out the sparkles in your eyes! You look totally beautiful!" It was without a doubt the biggest lie that Curly had ever spoken in his life. Big Patty's braces and headgear made her look like a total nightmare.

Apparently though, Big Patty didn't seem to notice his hesitation at all. Indeed she actually blinked and seemed to smile slightly at his words. "You—you really think so?"

Realizing that he was out of immediate danger of being shoved into a locker, or beaten to a pulp, Curly grinned and said, "You better believe it, babe. You're absolutely gorgeous!" Big Patty actually seemed to blush slightly underneath the head gear and her grin showed off all of her braces—as well as the remnants of her earlier lunch that got caught in them. Curly did his best to keep a straight face and not cringe at the sight.

"Well, um—thanks Curly," she said and turned to walk back down the hallway smiling to herself. When she turned the corner, Curly leaned against the locker and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Whew, that was a close one. Now to get started on part one of 'Operation: Smooch Rhonda' where I will get my pretty pet Rhonda to give me a kiss!" He started to snicker to himself, then threw back his head and laughed his loud, maniacal laugh throughout the empty hallway.

Well, almost empty hallway.

"Young man!" Principal Wartz shouted out, walking up and frowning at Curly. "Talking loudly and making noise in the hallway. That's the third time this week you've caused a disruption. Report to detention at once!"

"Rats," Curly muttered and slowly walked with his head lowered to the detention room where two other younger kids were serving detention. The teacher in charge, a dark-haired female teacher with glasses recognized Curly and sighed, "Not again." She pointed to a desk near the doorway. "You know the procedure, Curly. No talking during detention."

"Yeah, yeah," Curly said, sitting at his usual detention desk, which was by now as familiar to him as the desk in Mr. Simmons classroom was. He put his spiral notebook on the desk and turned to a blank page. He took out his trusty red pen and began to put his scheme into motion.

_Okay now, got to make this sound romantic, _he thought to himself as he began to write:

_**Dear Hot-Lips, **_

Curly smiled to himself._ There that ought to be romantic enough._ He continued:

_**I look at you every day while we're in class and in the hallways. It's hard not to since everything you do just makes me pay more attention to you, my little vision of hotness. **_

_That ought to knock her socks off, _Curly thought, grinning as he looked over his first sentence. It gave away nothing and offered so much. It was perfect.

_**I confess that I've always been attracted to your charms and your grace. What I am most fond of are your **__**Red Hot Lips **__**that I dream of kissing every night.**_

_Oh this is getting so good! Wow, I'm a regular Ernest Hemingway! _Curly really felt he was getting somewhere with all this. _Now for the clincher! _

_**I cannot bear to wait any longer to taste your awesome flavor. Meet me in the janitor's closet behind the gym at the end of last period - you know, the one on the first floor the sixth graders call the "make-out closet." I'll be waiting for your Hot Lips, my Sweet Baby Cakes. **_

Curly looked at those words and actually giggled a little to himself. _Rhonda won't know what hit her when she reads this,_ he thought gleefully. _And now to sign my brilliant masterpiece. _With his pencil he signed with the words:

– _**Love, Your One and Only **_

He reread the whole letter and smiled to himself _Perfect. Now all I have to do is slip this into Rhonda's locker somehow._ Curly began to fold it up just as someone came into the room. It was a short, dark-haired boy with chocolate covering his hands and face. He was carrying some papers - likewise chocolate covered in places - to the teacher at the front desk.

_That's it! I'll get Chocolate Boy to deliver my message to Rhonda's locker and then when the bell rings, I can sneak downstairs to the janitor's closet and wait for my pretty pet. _Curly actually giggled madly to himself at the thought.

He waited till Chocolate Boy was walking back to the door and the teacher was busy looking over the chocolate covered papers before producing a Mr. Fudgy Bar from his shorts pocket and opening it. Chocolate Boy paused in mid-step and looked over at Curly with a ravenous look on his face.

Curly smirked and waved the chocolate morsel in front of him slowly in his right hand. "You want to earn yourself some chocolate, my good man?" He whispered, and smirked wider as he saw Chocolate Boy's small, greedy eyes follow the chocolate covered morsel and his mouth hung open, dripping saliva.

"Yeah! Yeah! Chocolate!" Chocolate boy said as if he were in a trance. Curly had him totally under his power, as if he were a snake charmer and the Mr. Fudgy Bar was his flute.

"Well how about I make you a deal?" Curly said, grinning now. He then held up a couple of slips of paper in his left hand. One of them was the carefully folded up note and the other was a torn sheet of notebook paper with the number 19 written on it. "All you have to do is deliver this note to this locker number and slip it inside."

He then broke off half of the Mr. Fudgy Bar and tossed it to Chocolate Boy, who greedily grabbed it and shoved it into his mouth. A look of total rapture crossed the smaller boy's face. Curly grinned some more, "The rest you get after school once the job is complete." He handed over the papers to Chocolate Boy, who took them quickly, looking very eager to get this assignment out of the way and get more chocolate. "Go do it right away, got it?"

Chocolate Boy nodded quickly, looking very hyper. Then again, anyone who ate that much chocolate was probably wired all day anyhow. "Yeah, yeah, deliver note. Get more chocolate." He walked out of the room very quickly.

Curly smiled and muttered, "Sucker!" Then he took a bite out of the rest of the promised chocolate treat, proceeding to finish it off and chuckling to himself the whole time.

_My little stooge is on his way to deliver the message and soon I will get a kiss from my precious Baby Cakes Rhonda. _Curly thought, imagining how wonderful it will be to lock his lips onto those of the tall, elegant beauty that he was so infatuated with. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head smiling to himself. _This plan was so brilliant. Now there's nothing to do but wait. _He sighed and grinned to himself. _Nothing can possibly go wrong now._

* * *

2

At the very instant that Curly was thinking those very words, Chocolate Boy was on his way downstairs to deliver the message, with visions of Mr. Fudgy Bars dancing through his head. He was repeating the instructions over and over to himself, in an obsessive sort-of mantra.

"Deliver note to locker nineteen, get Mr. Fudgy Bar. Deliver note to locker nineteen, get Mr. Fudgy Bar. Deliver note to–"

Suddenly, Chocolate Boy's whole train of thought was derailed as the overpowering smell of something chocolate covered filled the air. He sniffed and his dark eyes bulged in chocolate overload frenzy. "Chocolate! Not just any chocolate . . ." He sniffed the air, allowing his chocolate sensitive nose to fill with the aroma. "Campfire Lass cookie (sniffs) dark chocolate coated gingerbread cookie (sniffs again) with tiny almond chips!"

He looked around desperately for the source of the aroma and saw a lone cookie laying on one of the bottom steps. It was dirty and had a few ants crawling on it. Probably fell out of a box when the Campfire Lasses had their cookie drive yesterday. Chocolate Boy didn't care. He_ had_ to have it. He was in such a rush to get to it, he lost his balance and fell down the steps, dropping both the folded letter and the slip of paper with the locker number on it at the bottom of the stairs.

At least he landed on his back next to the cookie. Chocolate Boy sat up quickly and grabbed it, ignoring the ants that were still crawling on it, and put the whole thing in his mouth and chewed it slowly, savoring the taste of real dark chocolate on his lips. The ants mixed in with the almonds and gingerbread actually didn't taste too bad.

"Now that hit the spot," he said smiling widely and patting his stomach. He burped.

Chocolate Boy stood up then remembering that he was on a mission for more chocolate. He looked around for the papers and found them lying not far away. Chocolate Boy's one-track mind was so filled with thoughts of more chocolate that he momentarily forgot about what he was supposed to do. "Okay, I was supposed to deliver this note to this locker number." He looked at the paper and saw the number 61 on it.

He stood up and continued on his way, muttering over and over again so he wouldn't forget. "Deliver note to locker sixty-one, get Mr. Fudgy Bar. Deliver note to locker sixty-one, get Mr. Fudgy Bar." Chocolate Boy continued in this manner, until he got to locker number 61 and he slipped the note through one of the slots on the door. He walked away from the locker and chuckled to himself happily at the though of the rich taste of half a Mr. Fudgy Bar waiting for him later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: The Wrong Locker**

The bell rang officially ending lunch and recess period for the fourth graders.

Helga and Phoebe were walking down the hallway toward their lockers to get their books for the next few classes. Helga was now in a much better mood because of the game of dodge-ball that she played before on the playground. "Ah, nothing like a good brutal dodge-ball game to make you feel better, huh Feebs?" Helga said, smiling.

Phoebe looked at her best friend and actually smiled a bit, "Well, only if you aren't one of the participants who was being hit with the ball?" Helga had taken all of her frustrations with Gerald out on the timid-looking third and forth graders who had been the targets of the hard rubber balls. She'd even tagged the kid who actually survived at the end so hard that it knocked him out of one of his shoes.

From the grin on Helga's face, she was savoring every bit of it. "All I did was picture Gerald-o's face on all of them."

Phoebe just sighed and said, "I take it then that the exercise you had did nothing to alleviate the frustration you endured because of Gerald's earlier actions in the cafeteria?"

Helga frowned at that and said, "Well, I feel a little better, just as long as _Tall-Hair-Boy_ stays the heck out of my way." They stopped just in front of locker sixty-one.

Phoebe looked a bit sad now. "Helga, Gerald was just standing up for Arnold and me because he though you were being unreasonable. Even you said that you were sorry for blowing up at me like you did."

For a moment there, Phoebe thought that her words actually got through to Helga, because she actually did blink and look thoughtful for a moment. Then Helga just shrugged and said, "Yeah, well he still got in my face. I do have a reputation to uphold, you know?"

Sighing Phoebe said, "I wish that you and Gerald would get along better. You two are more alike than either of you would care to admit."

Snorting, Helga looked at her and said, "Yeah right! What do me and _Gerald-o_ have in common then, _Miss Know-It-All_?"

Phoebe looked at her and answered honestly. "Well, both of you are loyal to your friends and stand up for them." _And both of you care about me, too. _The small girl thought to herself, though didn't say aloud.

Helga blinked again as that unexpected answer hit her. Gerald _did _stand up for Arnold back there. Despite her words from before, Helga did agree with Phoebe about how Gerald did nothing wrong standing up to her back there. But at the same time, he _did_ stand up to her. He got up in her face and humiliated her in public. Helga's pride and reputation took a big hit with that gelatin and she wasn't about to let go of it right away.

She just shook her head and muttered, "Whatever, Feebs." Then Helga looked at her and said, "I'm going on ahead. See you in class." With that she stomped off down the hallway in her usual fashion.

Phoebe watched her go and shook her head. Helga could be extremely stubborn at times. She turned to her locker and opened it. Her history book and two science books were on the top of a neatly organized stack. She reached for them, pulling them out, and noticed a piece of folded paper laying on top of one of the science books. "What's this?" She asked herself aloud, holding the paper in one hand and shifting her books under her other arm.

She was about to open the paper to look when someone behind her said, "Hey there." Phoebe smiled and turned around to see Gerald looking at her.

"Oh, um . . . hello, Gerald," she said smiling up at him. He was smiling down at her in that naturally charming way that always made Phoebe go a bit weak-kneed.

"I um, just wanted to come by and see how you were doing?" Gerald said, still smiling. He always did around Phoebe, who was very smart and easy-going, just like him.

Absently, Phoebe put the folded note in one of the science books that she was holding, never taking her eyes off of Gerald, who was still smiling at her. "Oh, um, I am doing very well now, Gerald. Thank you for asking."

Gerald continued to smile at her in that cute way. "Do you mind if I walk you to class?"

Phoebe only hoped she wasn't blushing outwardly. "Not at all, Gerald."

Together they made their way up the hallway toward Mr. Simmons forth grade classroom. Phoebe looked over at Gerald and said, "You were really brave back in the cafeteria, the way you stood up to Helga I mean."

"Yeah, well she sort-of had it coming," Gerald said, now no longer smiling. "She picks on Arnold all the time and bosses you around. I don't understand why you're friends with someone like her."

Phoebe blinked a little surprised by his words. While it was true that Gerald and Helga never got along much before, at least when they were playing baseball and other games in Gerald Field, they were at the very least on neutral terms. His words now were a lot harder and more aggressive that she'd ever heard Gerald talk about her.

Feeling a need to stand up for her best friend, she spoke up. "Gerald, Helga and I have been best friends since preschool, the same as you and Arnold. She may act disagreeable at times—and even I must concede that her behavior can be a bit trying—but there is more to her than just what everyone sees on a daily basis."

Gerald actually blinked a moment and then began to laugh. Phoebe started to frown slightly. "I was unaware that I said anything amusing."

"No, it's not that," Gerald said, shaking his head and still smiling. "Earlier Arnold told me almost the same thing that you just said about Helga having another side."

Phoebe's eyes widened a little and she nearly dropped her books in surprise. "He did?"

"Yeah, he was really weird about it too. Said that Helga just showed off being mean, but that deep down she has a nice side too."

The smaller girl couldn't help but smile now. This little inside information about Arnold's opinion of Helga was very illuminating and only confirmed what Phoebe already suspected was true.

Ever since before April Fools Day, around the time of the FTI incident, Arnold and Helga had been different somehow. Outwardly they acted the same, except for small things, like fleeting glances when the other wasn't looking. Only someone who was really observant would pick up on these subtle things.

Phoebe suspected that both of them were aware of Helga's feelings somehow. Maybe Helga finally revealed what she had hidden for so long? If so, then Phoebe couldn't have been any happier for her best friend. Even so, their traditional attitudes—at least outwardly—hadn't changed too much.

Gerald's comments about Arnold acting "really weird" suggested that his own feelings for Helga were a bit more that he let on as well. Phoebe couldn't help but be glad. Helga had a lonely life and only Phoebe as a confidant—though her feelings for the football-headed boy were a subject that neither of them officially acknowledged. Arnold was just the sort of person whom Helga needed to fill that loneliness.

"Are you okay?" Gerald asked her then, looking down at her strangely.

Phoebe blinked, realizing that her mind must have wandered a little. "Oh yes, um sorry, Gerald."

Gerald couldn't help but smile at the twinge of red that appeared on Phoebe pale cheeks. She looked so cute. His own heart was pounding slightly and he hoped that Phoebe couldn't hear it.

"Arnold is right," Phoebe told him as they turned a corner. "Helga does have a better side once you really get to know her. She may treat others people with hostility, but that's just to cover up her own anxieties and insecurities."

"Yeah well she's your best friend and you're supposed to stand up for her," Gerald said looking at her. "What I don't get is why you let her push you around so much. I mean, you're better than that. You're really smart, and nice, and cute—"

Phoebe stopped and looked at him. She couldn't help but smile at his latter comments. She also couldn't help but giggle at the blush that came to Gerald's dark cheeks after he told her that.

"Um, I mean that, well—I um . . ." Gerald stammered.

Looking around to see that nobody else was watching, she stood on her tip toes and lightly kissed Gerald on one of his blushing cheeks. Now a really goofy smile crossed his face and she too blushed again, surprised at her own boldness.

"We, um, better get to class now," Phoebe said, walking away. Gerald blinked and caught up to her smiling. Both of them exchanged shy, flirty glances at one another the whole way.

Just as they reached Mr. Simmons class, Phoebe smiled and said, "Oh Gerald, I almost forgot." She stopped at the doorway and turned handing out one of the books she'd had under her arm. "Here's your science book. Thanks for letting me borrow it. I can't believe that I forgot it yesterday."

Actually that was a little white lie. Phoebe intentionally misplaced her science book in order to borrow something of Gerald's for the evening. It was nice to have something of Gerald's to study with. "I also copied some notes down for you as well. They're in the front."

Gerald took it and brushed his fingertips against Phoebe's smiling. "Anytime, Phoebe baby." He winked at her.

Phoebe giggled and then bowed her head slightly, "_Domo Arigato_."

"Back at ya, girl," Gerald said grinning and making a pistol with his hand at her. Phoebe couldn't help but giggle again at his sense of humor. Together they walked inside smiling.

Mr. Simmons classroom was like it always was after lunch. Rowdy kids were talking really loudly and making lots of noise (especially Harold in the back laughing in his loud, obnoxious way). Phoebe and Gerald went to their desks. As he sat down Phoebe gave Gerald a shy little wave, and covered by offering Arnold (who sat on his right) a friendly smile before making her way two rows back to her own desk. Gerald waved back, offering her his best smile and then looked over at Arnold, who looked at him smiling.

"Wow, Gerald, you sure seem to be in a better mood," Arnold observed.

Gerald smiled and said, "Yeah, I guess I'm okay now." _A little flirting with someone you really like a lot can do that,_ he thought to himself. He wondered a moment if that thought was clear on his face. Even if it was, he doubted that Arnold would pick up on it. As smart as his best friend could be, he was a bit clueless when it came to things like love.

"That's good," Arnold said turning back to his books a moment, completely oblivious. Then he said "Oh Gerald, I almost forgot. You still have my history notebook."

"Oh man, I left it back at my locker," Gerald said, snapping his fingers. "Sorry, I um, got a little distracted on my way here. We can go get it before the bell rings next period."

"Sure, no problem," Arnold said in his good natured, laid back way. "I don't need it till then anyhow."

Just then the bell rang. Mr. Simmons came in and smiled at all of them. "Good afternoon class. I hope that everyone had a very special lunch break. Now then, get out your science books and turn to page 217."

Gerald opened his science book and saw the notes that Phoebe told him about. He picked them up smiling. It felt good to have something that Phoebe did for him, even if it was schoolwork. He started to turn to the page Mr. Simmons told them when he saw something else laying there underneath where the notes had been. It was another folded piece of notebook paper that Gerald knew he hadn't had in there before.

_I wonder what this is, _he thought as he unfolded it. _Maybe it belongs to Phoebe? _

The handwriting was in printed pencil and the first words hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened a little at them. _Hot-lips? _He blinked a couple of times, but the words were still there. He read on and the more he read, the more his face seemed to turn red. He blinked again, and again, feeling a warm, tingly feeling in his stomach. The last words almost made his heart leap into his throat when he read them. He re-read them just to be sure that he read them right the first time.

The whole world around him just then seemed to be nothing more than background noise. Gerald was vaguely aware of Mr. Simmons saying something, but he didn't hear it. His mind was a million miles away running at the speed of light.

_I can't believe this! Phoebe left me an anonymous love note in my science book! _There was no other explanation. Phoebe had his science book all day yesterday and this morning. She flirted with him earlier in the hallway. Heck, she even _kissed_ him on the cheek before when they were talking.

Kissing!

His heart pounded really fast as he re-read the last few lines of the note again to himself: _I cannot bear to wait any longer to taste your awesome flavor. Meet me in the janitor's closet at the end of last period . . . you know, the one on the first floor the sixth graders call the "make-out closet." I'll be waiting for you, my sweet Baby cakes._

Gerald's breath caught in his throat and he was vaguely aware of a warm, tingling feeling in his stomach. He turned his head to look back at Phoebe a moment. She was looking down at the pages of her own science book right then, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. He turned back around and smiled to himself. You just never knew about those shy ones.

The more he thought about it, the more he grinned to himself. Phoebe wrote him a love note and wanted a taste of his red hot lips. He didn't hear any of the less the whole period, and he was only vaguely aware of the splattering sounds of Helga's usual spitballs hitting Arnold behind the neck and ears. The only thing on his mind was the thought that very soon he would be kissing the girl he'd been crushing on ever since last year's Cheese Festival.

He could hardly wait.

_**To Be Continued . . . . **_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Fire Exchange and Mixed Signals**

Helga couldn't wait for the stupid science lesson to finally be over. It was a boring subject, and one she usually didn't stay awake for most of the time. Right now though, she couldn't doze off like she might have on other days (she never worried about missing anything since Phoebe took really good notes) however she was too angry to feel sleepy, even with Mr. Simmons droning on and on about butterfly larvae, or moth cocoons, or some other "special" bug.

_This is all Tall-Hair-Boys' fault!_ She thought with a scowl on her face directed towards the tall dark-skinned boy with the stack of black hair a few desks in front of and to the left of her. She watched him sitting there with a strange smile and a dopey look on his face. Helga didn't think much of it, since she never paid much attention to Gerald before.

Usually he was just Arnold's best friend and side-kick. Normally he never spoke up much when her and Arnold exchanged insults (more her than him most of the time). Any other time, Gerald would have just stayed out of the way, or at the very least send a scowl her way over her treatment of Arnold.

The memory of him getting in her face and then throwing that lime gelatin at her made her blood boil. _Who the heck does he think he is anyway?_ She thought to herself, never once thinking about the fact that she'd shoved him before the gelatin incident. All she could think about was the fact that he dared to get in her face.

She tore another piece of paper from her notebook and began to roll it up, preparing yet another spitball.

Another of her favorite past-times when she was bored in class was to shoot spitballs at Arnold, just to get his attention. She would always secretly smile on the inside whenever he turned and looked at her all ticked off and annoyed. Even as she would always scowl back at him and pretend it didn't happen, she could always fight a grin at the way his face turned slightly red.

She put the paper into her mouth, using her tongue to roll it up and took out her trusty straw, preparing to fire. She raised the straw to her lips when Simmons turned back to the chart by the blackboard and fired. The wad of wet paper went sailing gracefully and hit its target—the back of Arnold's neck. Helga watched him flinch as the wet paper wad connected with a small splat and fell down the back of his plaid undershirt.

_Score, _Helga thought smiling to herself and quickly put away the straw. Arnold turned right on cue, giving her that annoyed look that she found all too cute. Helga frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" He just sighed and looked back at his desk.

Gerald turned back to look at her also, and gave her an annoyed look of his own. The only difference was that Helga not only didn't find that look cute, she was also angered slightly by the glare in his eyes that seemed to say: "You better stop it, Helga." She looked back at him with a matching glare and he turned away.

_That's right, Gerald-o, you better turn around! _She thought, still angry at Arnold's best friend. There was no way she was going to let him get away with what he did to her earlier. She then smirked as an idea for revenge suddenly came to her.

Reaching inside her desk, Helga pulled out a rubber band and a large paperclip. She looped the rubber band into the paperclip and secured it so that she could shoot it off her fingers easily. She then took aim at the back of Gerald's head.

Normally, she just turned such attentions to Arnold, but aside from spitballs and the occasional rubber band, or chewed off eraser, she never shot a paper clip at her beloved. Unlike the other things, a paperclip was dangerous and painful and could result in leaving a small wound.

In this case, however, that was indeed Helga's plan.

She fired a second later. The paperclip and rubber band flew across the distance perfect just as Gerald turned his head, and hit him behind his left earlobe. He let out a loud yelp and reached for his ear.

"Gerald? Is everything okay back there?" Mr. Simmons said, turning toward the boy and looking slightly concerned.

"Huh? Oh um, everything is fine, Mr. Simmons. I just . . . um, sort of banged my knee. That's all." Gerald said, still holding his ear and looking at the teacher. Around him, the rest of the class snickered. He turned and glared back at Helga, who just sat there, the poster child of innocence, smiling to herself.

Arnold looked over and whispered, "Is everything okay, Gerald?"

"Yeah, no problem," Gerald said grumpily and looked down at the top of his desk, where the paperclip and rubber band lay. He glared at it, and then looked back at Helga with a similar look.

Helga saw this and just stuck her tongue out at Gerald and turned away, ignoring him. She looked at the desk beside her, where Phoebe was giving her an annoyed look of her own and shaking her head sadly. Helga blinked; thinking to herself, _I wonder what the heck is her problem is?_

She just shrugged and looked back at her notebook, turning to a page where she was drawing a doodle of Arnold next to a heart with the letters: **A + H** in them. Helga smiled and took out a pencil, getting ready to continue drawing. Now that she got some measure of revenge against Gerald, she suddenly felt much better.

No sooner than she began drawing, something hard hit her forehead, almost on her left eye. "OWW! Criminy!" She yelled, standing up and rubbing just over her eyebrow.

"Helga? Is everything okay back there?" Mr. Simmons said, once again distracted from teaching the assignment. Helga noticed that everyone else was looking at her now . . . except for Gerald, that was.

Helga blinked and answered, "Oh, um yeah, I just . . . um, h-have to go to the bathroom. That's all." She heard the rest of the class giggle as they had at Gerald, and she could feel her face turn red from embarrassment.

"Oh, well, um, okay then," Mr. Simmons said.

As soon as the teacher turned back to his lesson chart, Helga looked down and saw what hit her lying on top of her desk. It was a tightly packed paper ball, which she unfolded to discover, to her surprise and outrage, a large rubber eraser inside.

_That jerk!_ Helga thought, looking up at Gerald, who was shrugging at Arnold, who seemed to be giving him the same sort-of look that Phoebe had given her a moment ago. Glancing back at Helga, Gerald just raised an eyebrow, but the smirk was still plastered on his face.

She stood up and stomped out of the classroom, feeling the eyes of everyone in the class on the back of her head. The glare she sent them made a few of the closer ones hush instantly—at least as long as she was around that was. Helga gave Gerald once more angry look before she left the classroom and went to the bathroom, not that she needed to go, but just so she could be somewhere private to let out her frustrations.

Arnold looked back at his best friend after Helga left the room. He sighed and said, "You shouldn't have done that, Gerald."

"Are you kidding, man?" Gerald asked Arnold, looking at him with a justified expression on his face. "Did you see what she threw at me?" He held up the rubber band and the paper clip tied around it.

Arnold looked at it and blinked slightly. "She threw that at you?"

Gerald nodded and then said, "All I did was get her back, and what I threw wasn't as bad as this. I think she may have even scratched the skin."

Arnold just shook his head. "Still, what good does it do to try and one up her? It will only lead to more trouble."

"Whatever, man," Gerald said turning away and looking a little annoyed at Arnold. _What is it with him anyhow? Why couldn't he just fight back and stand up for himself? _The worst of it was that Helga's spitballs at Arnold and her little paper clip shot totally distracted him from his daydreams about kissing Phoebe on the lips.

He smiled to himself as he idly put the love note inside the front cover of his book. Why should he worry about a little daydream anyhow? In one more hour—mere school period away—all of his daydreams about kissing Phoebe would be a reality anyhow.

The bell rang a moment later, ending the period. Gerald stood up and said, "Hey man, I better get your history notebook before the tardy bell."

Arnold stood and shook his head, "No, its okay, Gerald, I can get it for you. I um, have to go do something anyhow." He looked a bit distracted as he said that.

Gerald raised an eyebrow at Arnold, but just shrugged, "No problem. Oh here, take my science book back while you're at it, if you don't mind? My locker combination is 18 - 29 - 04 remember?"

Arnold nodded and said, "Sure, no problem. I'll be right back." He left with both his and Gerald's books under his left arm.

After Arnold left the room, Gerald smiled and looked back at Phoebe, who sat at her desk looking over at Sheena, talking about something and laughing. She glanced over at Gerald who felt his heart flutter a moment and blew her a kiss right there in class. Phoebe blinked, seemingly surprised by Gerald's boldness, especially in front of nearly all their classmates. She just blushed a little and smiled. Gerald winked, sending her a little message: _You got a date, Phoebe babe. _

Phoebe's eyebrow raised an amused and slightly puzzled way, and then turned back to Sheena to resume their conversation. Gerald grinned, totally missing the puzzlement in Phoebe's expression. _Wow, that girl is a good actor. I can't wait till later. _He turned back facing his desk and smiled, feeling very cool right then.

Helga didn't go to the bathroom, but instead went to her locker and got her history book as something to do. On the way she spotted Chocolate Boy, who looked extremely disgruntled and kept muttering something about being cheated. He looked up seeing Helga, who glared at him and said, "What are _you_ looking at, you little freak?!" Chocolate Boy quickly and nervously ran away past her.

Letting out her anger on someone else did very little to calm her after what_ Tall-Hair-Boy_ did to her. The only other time Helga ever remembered being so embarrassed in class was when Olga was student teacher and she told everyone about her little bed wetting problem when she was younger.

She slammed the locker so hard that the lock didn't have time to lock back before it bounced back and hit her right in the nose. She growled and pushed it close again, this time pinching one of her fingers in the door. She sucked on it trying to end the pain. Once again she blamed her ill fortune on Gerald, who she vowed would pay a terrible price for all of it.

Helga then walked back in the direction of the classroom, turning the corner and . . . .

Wham! She collided with someone coming the other way. Both her and the person she ran into fell backwards, their books flying out of their hands and landing all around them. Helga sat up, after landing on her back, getting ready to tell off the jerk that ran into her, until she saw who it was.

"Arnold!" She said in a whisper, looking at him in a loving way. Her anger momentarily forgotten—at least until Arnold sat up and looked at her. She blinked and shook her head, and then her scowl returned. "Why don't you watch where you're going, _football-head?_ What a klutz, sheesh!"

"Oh um, sorry Helga," he said, standing up and then offering his hand to her. Helga normally would have swatted away any attempt at assistance from him before, but since her confession, she decided to accept, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull her to her feet. She scowled and pulled his hand away all-too-quickly once she was upright again.

"What are you doing out here anyhow?" Helga asked, bending over and retrieving her books.

"Oh I came to return Gerald's science book to his locker for him," Arnold explained, retrieving the book in question, which lay open on the floor facing down.

At the mention of the name, Helga scowled deeper. "I don't want to talk about _that _moron."

"That moron, as you put it, happens to be _my_ best friend, Helga," Arnold said, looking up at her and narrowing his eyes slightly now. "I don't agree with his actions, but I understand why he did them." As he said those words, he picked up a piece of folded paper that looked like it must have fallen out of one of Helga's books. He placed it in the front cover just as Helga spoke up again.

"All I know is if_ Tall-Hair-Boy_ ever gets in my face again, I'm going to jam my fist up one of his nostrils, you got it?" She then saw the book in Arnold's hand and snatched it away, "Give me that, _hair-boy_!"

Arnold blinked realizing just how angry Helga was now. Normally he never took any of her threats of violence too seriously, since most of them were directed at him. Now that he knew Helga's secret feelings for him, he knew she would never physically hurt him—or at least nothing violent anyhow. Anyone else who had the misfortune of making Helga G. Pataki mad however, well they better look out!

"Like I said Helga, I don't agree with Gerald's actions, but I do understand that the only reason he acted the way he did was because he saw you picking on me and Phoebe." He stood up and looked down at her. "Gerald is a good friend, and he doesn't usually act like he did, but to him you were going too far. I mean, think about it, what would you do if it had been me picking on Phoebe and Gerald?"

Helga snorted and said, "Yeah right, like you would ever do something like that, _Arnold-o_. You're too kind and noble and . . . and . . ." She paused there knowing how she sounded and seeing Arnold look at her and smiling a little. She blinked and shook her head, then quickly continued as she stood up. "Well, you're way too much of a pushover to do something like that."

Arnold could tell she simply added that last part to cover up her other feelings. A part of him was sort-of glad she did, since a small part of him still didn't know how to deal with them at the moment . . . but yet; another larger part of him was sort-of sad when she did, and a little disappointed. This part felt he had to say something.

"You know, Helga, Gerald asked me before why I never get back at you for anything. The names, the spitballs, the pranks. Do you know what I told him?" He saw her look at her uncertain now. He never brought up the specifics of her bullying to her before; they always just went on without a word. She just shook her head.

He continued, "I told Gerald that even though you don't show it, deep down you are a good person, underneath all the sarcastic talk and the threatening attitude. You're not always so tough-acting. In fact, sometimes when you show you're nicer side, well . . . I think that, um, it's sort-of, well, nice." Arnold felt his cheeks go a bit rosy even as he thought to himself how completely lame his last line was.

Helga, on the other hand, just blinked down at him and her own cheeks went slightly pink. "Arnold, that last line was completely lame, do you know that?" Then she actually smiled a little and added, "But well, um, thanks."

Realizing that things between them was getting a little too mushy though, Helga added, raising an eyebrow, "Well Gerald still got on my nerves and he better just stay the heck out of my way for awhile. Helga G. Pataki ain't anybody's pushover!"

Arnold sighed, sensing that the moment had passed and feeling a little sad that it did. Then he said to her, "Just try to understand why he did what he did, Helga. Gerald's an okay guy, and you two have never been very friendly to each other."

"What's your point, _football-head_?"

"My point is, instead of staying angry at him, you should try and figure out what you and Gerald have in common."

Helga let out another derisive snort. "Me and _Gerald-o_? What on earth do we possibly have in common, _Arnold-o_?"

_Well both of you care about me and Phoebe more than you both let on,_ he thought to himself, but didn't say aloud now that there were more kids in the hallways. Instead he answered, "That is something the two of you need to learn on your own."

He looked down a moment and said, "We better hurry and get back to class. Last two periods are starting. Um, do you want to walk back with me, Helga?" Arnold didn't know if it was just his usual courtesy, or something else that made that last question come out of his mouth. The feeling of anticipation for the answer though was a new one.

Helga looked at him, also surprised by the question. She looked even more surprised by her own response, "Well, um, sure Arnold." Then she quickly added, "Whatever blows you're skirt up, _football-head_."

As they walked back to class together, Arnold felt like smiling when he responded, "It's my shirt, Helga. You know the one underneath my sweater. It's just the tails of my shirt."

"Oh yeah, sure Arnold," Helga said, offering an amused smile of her own. "It looks like a kilt, you know. I didn't know you were trying out for the Campfire Lads."

Shaking his head, Arnold just said, "I don't care much for Chocolate Turtles anymore."

They continued to tease each other with good humor the whole way back to class. When they got to the door, Arnold stood aside like a gentleman to let Helga in first. She didn't nod as she did so, but Arnold did smiled when he head her mutter a small, "Thanks."

Both of them went to their seats with smiles on their faces. Gerald only glanced over at Arnold a moment and offered a nod. He had a strange smile on his face and his eyes seemed to be out of focus. Arnold was too busy thinking about his latest encounter with Helga to care much about Gerald's own strange behavior.

Arnold glanced back at Helga, who was at the moment a little too busy setting her books down to notice his stare. He turned back around with a sigh, but he still couldn't help but think about how they'd both been talking and teasing one another on the way back to class. It was almost like the two of them had been . . . flirting. He quickly went back to his books and again felt his cheeks turn pink. He hoped nobody else noticed.

Helga also returned to her seat near the back and sat down; thinking about the things Arnold told her. Not about Gerald—as far as she was concerned, he was a jerk and that was that. She thought instead about Arnold's outgoing behavior toward her before, and how the two of them actually had a decent conversation, where Arnold actually gave her some compliments, including the cute—though still lame—"nice" compliment.

"Helga, you left the classroom rather abruptly, are you okay?" Phoebe asked, looking over at her from the next desk.

"Huh? Oh um, yeah I'm fine," Helga said, hoping to sound flippant about it. The answer seemed to satisfy Phoebe, who went back to her notes and preparations for the next class.

Helga opened her book, also getting ready, even though all she actually wanted to do was daydream about Arnold—which she was planning on doing all through class anyhow. Good thing that her best friend took really clear and specific notes.

It was when she glanced down at the book again that she noticed something sticking out of the back corner. It looked like a sheet of folded notebook paper. She frowned a little to herself, _what the heck is this? _She pulled it out and opened it up. Helga quickly read the note to herself. _Dear Hot-lips . . . Wait? Hot-lips?! _She blinked a little as she read on . . . _little vision of hotness_ . . . _RED HOT LIPS_ . . . her eyebrow disappeared into her hairline and her eyes widened at the words.

Helga read the last lines to herself under her breath, _"I cannot bear to wait any longer to taste your awesome flavor. Meet me in the janitor's closet at the end of last period . . . you know, the one on the first floor the sixth graders call the "make-out closet." I'll be waiting for you, my sweet Baby cakes. – Love, Your One and Only_."

Suddenly Helga felt as if her heart were beating a thousand times a second. It was all she could do not to pass out as she looked up at the back of Arnold's football-head and grin. _He slipped this love note to me while he was picking up my books! He wants to meet me in the make-out closet and taste my lips—the ones he said he was dreaming of kissing! Oh my Arnold! My little football-headed vision of hotness! _She swooned in her seat a moment, and then grinned to herself as she thought, _Wow, who would have thought that the football-head would be that bold? You just never know about those shy ones._

Helga then crumpled up a ball of paper and threw it at the back of Arnold's head, almost knocking his small blue cap off. When he turned around, giving her that oh so cute look of annoyance, Helga just smiled and winked at him. Arnold actually blinked then and seemed to turn a bit red when he turned back around.

She smiled and chuckled a little under her breath._ Just one more class period away from tasting the lips that haunts my girlish dreams! _

A few tables away next to Arnold, Gerald was daydreaming about kissing Phoebe, the girl he'd been friends with and crushed on for so long. He glanced up at the clock. Just forty-five minutes till last period. _Oh man, I can't wait. This is going to be so good. _

Behind him, Helga thought, _this is going to be _so_ amazing!_

_I don't know how I'm going to be able to stand the waiting, _Gerald thought, feeling as if the clock were going extra slow.

_Criminy! Is that stupid clock broken, it can't have only been two minutes! _Helga thought anxiously. _Come on, hurry up you dumb clock!_

_Come on, hurry up you dumb clock!_ Gerald though, now feeling more anxious.

At the same time, unknown to the other, both of them thought the exact same words with smiles on their faces, _this is going to be one experience I'm _never_ going to forget!_

**To Be Continued . . . . **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Smooching Snafu**

An hour later, it had already been last period for about ten minutes and Helga suddenly felt extremely giddy. She'd had to suffer through what seemed like forty-five minutes of the longest class in her life. She didn't even hear a word of Mr. Simmons' lesson, nor the responses of any of her classmates to their questions. All she could do was stare at the back of Arnold's head and watch his every move. On every occasionally Arnold would bit the eraser on his pencil as he thought about what to write in his notebook, Helga could feel her heart beating faster and faster, knowing that soon those tasty lips of his would once again meet hers.

_At last my beloved, its seventh period! _Helga thought to herself as she stared at the back of Arnold's head. _Now's the time! It's finally here! The moment when your wonderful lips and mine will meet again, my bold little yellow-haired angel! _She smiled widely. _Now to get out of here and down to the janitor's closet to make out with my beloved!_

Helga clutched her stomach and let out a loud, "Oww!" She groaned, causing Phoebe and (her heart skipped a beat) Arnold to look over at her concerned.

Mr. Simmons looked up and asked, "Helga? What is it? Are you feeling all right?"

She shook her head. "It's my stomach. I—I think maybe I had too much of that green gelatin earlier, Mr. Simmons. Oww, I feel like I'm going to barf."

"Oh dear," Mr. Simmons actually looked a bit queasy at the idea of someone throwing up in front of him. "Um, you better get to the nurse's office right away."

"Oh yes, thank you, Mr. Simmons," Helga said standing up and moving slowly toward the door, still clutching her stomach. As she passed by Arnold, she saw the concerned look on his face. She gave him a quick wink, which he blinked at. Helga almost giggled at the surprised look on his face. _See you at the make-out closet_, _football-head, _she thought as she walked out the door.

Once outside the class she skipped all the way down the hallway to the stairs and made her way quickly down to the first floor. She had to hide a moment behind the stairs because the janitor was there putting away a mop and a metal bucket. He closed the door and frowned a little jiggling the handle. "Stupid handle is jammed. If it isn't one stupid thing around here it's another. Have to order a new part." He walked off shaking his head and grumbling.

Helga waited until the janitor was out of sight, then quickly and quietly rushed over to the closet and shut the door, but not all the way. Only a really think crack of light could be seen through the space between the door, but not enough to make out what, or whom, was outside.

She took out her locket in the semi-darkness and looked down at the smiling picture of Arnold gazing up at her in that thoughtful, distant way of his that made her love him so. "Oh Arnold, my beloved! Soon I will once again be reunited with you in this private, undisclosed place, where our lips will once again meet in sweet, heavenly bliss." Helga leaned over and kissed the locket with her own lips, leaving a pair of prints on the glass.

Helga remembered the other instances where her lips and Arnold's had meet.

The first time had been a school play of Romeo and Juliet, which Helga had to work very hard and manipulate her way into the role of Juliet to Arnold's Romeo. The effort had been all worth it, just to feel the tender touch of his lips to her own.

The second time had been when the two of them won a guest role on the television series Babewatch—Helga's favorite show, now more than ever—where she played a lifeguard and was able to give Arnold (who played a drowning victim) the breath of life. Helga had that particular episode taped and watched it over and over a hundred times till the tape broke. Oh well, there were always reruns.

The third, and probably the most important time of all, was the night on the roof of the FTI building when Helga actually confessed her secret feeling to a very stunned Arnold, and then kissed him with all her might. She remembered how good it felt to grab him, holding him closely as their lips meet. Helga still dreamed about it often, as well as the two of them sliding down the rope together, with her arms and legs wrapped around him, their bodies so close.

Just thinking about all of those times made her face go red. She swooned on the spot and backed right into a shelf covered with rolls of toilet paper, which then fell over on her. "Criminy!" She said, kicking one of the offending rolls away for spoiling her happy thoughts.

* * *

Meanwhile back in Mr. Simmons' classroom, Gerald was also watching the clock, waiting anxiously to make his move. The warm, tingling feeling in his stomach had slowly given way to a knot of nervous excitement. He was actually trying to keep from shaking.

_This is it, Gerald, old boy, _he thought as he bit his lip and looked down at his almost blank notebook paper. He was far too nervous and excited to even pay attention to anything Mr. Simmons was saying. His imagination was going wild with the idea of what was about to happen. Sometime in the next few minutes, or so, he was going to be kissing the girl he first started to crush on at the Cheese festival last year.

Gerald just loved everything about Phoebe – aside from the fact that she was best friends with Helga G. Pataki of all people. He loved how smart she was, and how kind and gentle she could be. She was easy to talk to, well except when she went into all those technical terms and used those really big words, or said things in Japanese. She was cute and fun to hang around with at parties.

He was still a bit shocked at how bold an action this was for her. Actually planning out a place for them to meet and kiss, especially in the make-out closet. Obviously she was shy about the idea of kissing him, especially since the two of them had never done much more than simply hold hands and go on rides at Dinoland together. Sometimes they would walk home together after school whenever their best friends were busy doing other things.

The note she slipped to him must have been her way of saying, without words, that she really wanted to take that next step and become his girlfriend. As Gerald thought about the note, he had to smile to himself. _W__ell maybe she isn't too shy at all?_

Mr. Simmons suddenly looked up and said, "Um, yes Phoebe?"

Gerald turned and saw that Phoebe was standing up and looking at Mr. Simmons. "Mr. Simmons, may I please be excused. I want to go and check to see if Helga needs assistance. If she's really sick, she may need some help with her things when she goes home."

"Oh, well of course Phoebe, that's really thoughtful and special of you to do that for Helga," the teacher said smiling.

Gerald couldn't help but grin. This was so perfect! Ironically Helga's illness was working out with the plan. Phoebe probably really was worried about Helga, but Gerald was also convinced that she asked to leave just before class was so that they would have plenty of time together in the closet. She must be going their first.

As Phoebe walked by Gerald, she looked his way, and this all but confirmed his suspicions. He offered her a smile and a nod. She nodded back, looking the picture of composure. Gerald admired her skills at acting, as well as the lips he was going to be kissing in a few minutes.

He took a deep breath knowing what he had to do now. After he waited a minute for Phoebe to get where she was going, Gerald raised his hand. Mr. Simmons paused in the middle of his lesson and said, "Oh, yes Gerald?"

"Mr. Simmons, I really need to go to the bathroom, and I don't think it can wait till the end of the period," Gerald said, making his face look pained, as if he were trying hard not to pee himself.

"Oh, well, I guess if it's an emergency, you may go, Gerald," Mr. Simmons said, nodding.

Gerald stood up, feeling a light, jittery feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Thanks."

Arnold looked at him, "I'll take care of your books and meet you out front, Gerald." He smiled at Arnold, "Thanks buddy."

Then he left the classroom and quickly made his way downstairs to the make-out closet. He slowed down once he reached the bottom of the stairs and came within sight of the slightly ajar closet door.

* * *

At the same instant that Gerald was walking to the closet, and the same moment that Helga was daydreaming about her previous kisses with Arnold; Curly was just finishing with detention. The kids were being dismissed to go back to their classes and wait for the final bell to ring in a mere five minutes, or so.

Curly stood up and chuckled to himself as he left the detention room and started to make his way to the stairs at the end of the hallway, eagerly anticipating the culmination of Operation: Smooch Rhonda.

"Ah ha! In just a minute my pretty pet, Rhonda, your lips and mine shall meet and my cleverly devised plan will be a complete success!" Curly said to himself triumphantly.

Just as he was about to get to the stairs, he was grabbed from the shadows by a pair of strong, chocolate covered hands and slammed into the wall beside him. Chocolate Boy's brown, bloodshot eyes looked into his and he said, with a junkie's obsessive pitch in his voice, "Where's my Mr. Nutty Bar you promised me!"

* * *

_She's there already, just as I thought! _Gerald grinned as he slowly walked toward the closet door. His mind was going a million miles a second. He'd never kissed a girl on the lips before. This would be his first time. Would he be any good at it? Would she know what to do? He had no idea if Phoebe had any experience kissing at all. He tried to think about everything he'd seen in movies, or on television. He actually gulped and his dark cheeks suddenly turned bright red at all the thoughts that came to his mind just then.

He walked closer and closer to the door . . . .

* * *

Helga was suddenly brought out of her wonderful daydreams about her previous kisses with Arnold as she head quiet footsteps slowly make their way toward the closet. She began to tremble with excitement as she put her locket away back inside her shirt next to her heart. The love note, which she had in her other hand and was going to read again fell to the floor. Helga was too anxious to notice. She licked her lips knowing moment was at hand, her and Arnold were about to swap spit . . . .

* * *

Gerald could feel his heart pounding faster and he gulped again as he stopped then knocked on the door . . . .

* * *

_This is it!_ Helga thought, excited and nervous. She took a breath to stop herself from shaking and she opened the door, closing her eyes in her excitement. She didn't want to wait; Helga wanted her beloved Arnold now! She reached out and grabbed his arm, quickly pulling him inside with her . . .

* * *

_This is it! _Gerald thought feeling a touch of the jitters. The door opened and Gerald closed his eyes in anticipation. He felt a hand grab his right arm and pull him roughly into the closet. The door slammed shut behind him. He didn't even have time to open his eyes to blink at Phoebe's strength when he was shoved roughly against the wall and then felt a pair of warm and wet lips meeting his own.

The feeling was one that Gerald was not quite prepared for. He actually gasped slightly—and then his eyes widened when he felt her lips part and her tongue quickly slide into his mouth and mixed with his own. This was _way_ more than he ever bargained for, but it felt _really_ good! His heart pounded hard against his ribs as he put his arms around her and kissed her back strongly, somehow feeling naturally what to do.

Helga actually felt her heart leap into her throat when he kissed her back and she let out a small groan of pleasure into his mouth as she also wrapped her arms around his thin, lanky body.

It was when she did so that she suddenly felt something was wrong. Sure Arnold was thin, but since when was he almost as tall as her . . . and his hair didn't smell, or feel anything like it normally did. Plus the kiss . . . She blinked and her eyes opened . . . .

Gerald felt suddenly as if something was wrong as well. Once he got over the initial warmth of the kiss itself, he suddenly realized that Phoebe actually felt a lot taller than she usually did, almost as tall as he was. Plus her hair . . . since when did Phoebe have pigtails . . . . _Wait? Pigtails?! _

He blinked and opened his eyes, then broke off the kiss.

Both of them pushed the closet door open slightly, Gerald with his foot and Helga with her hand, and the light from the hallway beyond revealed to both parties who the other one actually was, and the fact that both of them were nose to nose and hold onto the other closely . . . .

At that same instant that the final bell rang officially ending the school day. The bell was almost directly over the closet door and thus drowned out the sound of two ten-year-olds suddenly screaming loudly at the top of their lungs.

Both Helga and Gerald ran out of the closet and took off out of the front door of the school, then ran in opposite directions yelling loudly as they did so.

Just after both Gerald and Helga ran out of the front door, Curly was just running down the stairs, having escaped from Chocolate Boy by diverting him with a handful of half-melted malted milk balls from his pocket and tossing them over his shoulder. While the chocolate junkie was busy scooping them up, he quickly ran to the closet, throwing the already slightly open door and running inside.

"Here I am, Hot-lips! Come to daddy!" The geek even had his lips puckered before his mind registered what his eyes were telling him. That the closet was now empty. He looked around and then saw his note laying halfway open on the ground. "Hey, where the heck did you go?" He bent down to pick up the note. "What in the he—HEY!" The last part he shouted as the kids who were in a hurry to get out of school ran into the door and slammed it shut.

Over the usual loud commotion of the kids yelling as they were leaving, and the other noise associated with the end of school, nobody heard the faulty door knob click the lock in place and fall off from the outside, nor did they hear Curly pounding on the door and yelling at the top of his lungs for someone to let him out.

_**To Be Continued . . . . **_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Reactions and Misconceptions (Part One) **

Gerald ran all the way home, never once slowing down until he ran up the stoop to his front door and slammed the door behind him. Nobody else seemed to be home yet, but Gerald was too far gone to worry at all about that fact. Indeed, the entire building could be burning down around his head and right now he would never have noticed it.

He ran upstairs to the bathroom near his room and ran straight for the medicine cabinet, where he pulled out his toothbrush, toothpaste and a large bottle of mouthwash. Gerald didn't even bother with putting any of the toothpaste on the brush as he leaned his head back and squeezed a huge glob of the mint-flavored paste into his open mouth and then used his toothbrush, scrubbing out every square inch of the inside of his mouth. Then he spit it out into the sink and took a huge mouthful of the mouthwash and gargled with it.

He repeated this process two more times, all in an effort to completely rid his mouth of the taste of that kiss.

Helga G. Pataki's kiss!

The memory of that kiss came back to him and he almost gagged as he spat out the third mouthful of toothpaste and mouthwash—which he attempted to do at the same time and only resulted in getting some of it on the front of his red shirt. Gerald looked up in the mirror and saw the pale, sickly look on his face and then realized that his heart was beating very fast from the running and from the building anxiety in his chest.

He didn't remember thinking at all while he ran away from the school, except to get away, far away from that terrible moment and to get someplace safe. Like a small child hiding under his covers to keep himself safe from the monsters in the closet, or under the bed, Gerald instinctively ran home to hide, to lock himself away in his room and close his mind to the terrible nightmare that he endured back at school.

Gerald turned on the faucet and splashed some water on his face, and then he walked to his room and fell face first sideways on his bed and rolled over on his back. His heart was still pounding hard in his chest.

As he lay there, looking up at the ceiling, his mind kept replaying over and over again the incident in the closet and especially the kiss itself. Gerald closed his eyes and put his right arm across his eyes and thought to himself, _No, I don't want to think about it anymore! _Unfortunately his traitorous mind continued to play back the kiss in all of its explicit details. Gerald shuddered.

"I can't believe this is happening!" Gerald said to himself. "Oh man, what the heck and I going to do? I just—I just kissed Helga G. Pataki! _On the lips!"_ He shook as his mind replayed the way their lips meet and how her tongue slid into his mouth . . .

"OH MAN!" Gerald said and put his pillow over his face, closing his eyes and trying to pretend the world outside didn't exist anymore. All he wanted to do was closed his eyes and wake up to find that all of this had been a terrible nightmare.

_What the heck happened back there?_ Gerald thought to himself, trying hard to think about something else other than that kiss. _I was supposed to meet Phoebe in that closet and instead I ended up kissing—NO! Don't think about that kiss! That horrible, sickening kiss!_

_But you liked it at first, didn't you, Gerald? _A small traitorous part of his mind spoke up.

_What? No! Heck no! I didn't like kissing Helga G. Pataki! _Gerald thought defiantly, even though that small voice in his brain was in fact telling the truth and he knew it. He _had_ liked Helga's kiss before he knew it was Helga that was doing it.

His stomach felt as if it was tied up in knots. "This can't be happening to me," he said aloud to himself. "I go to a closet and kiss the wrong girl and now . . . now I have the whole thing in my head and I can't stop thinking about it!"

_Of course not, Gerald, _that traitorous voice spoke up again from the back of his brain. _You can't stop thinking about it because it was your first kiss._

Now Gerald felt extremely cold and sick. His first real kiss on the lips and it had to be with Helga G. Pataki of all people!

He closed his eyes again and tried to think about everything he was thinking about before. The plan to kiss Phoebe in the closet and his wonderful daydreams about her . . . only now those daydreams wouldn't form, replaced by an actual experience in kissing that he definitely didn't want to remember.

_But what the heck happened to kissing Phoebe?! _He practically shouted to his brain. _I get a note in my book that I let Phoebe borrow that told me she wanted to meet me in that closet, then when I get there . . . ugh! Don't think about that part! What happened to Phoebe?!_

Now that other part of his brain spoke up again, this time offering another line of thinking. _What if Phoebe wasn't the one who left you that note? I mean sure it was in your book, and you let Phoebe borrow that book, but that doesn't mean that it was Phoebe who _sent_ that note to you? _

Gerald sat up and blinked as that terrible idea and its implications sunk into his brain. He remembered how everything started with that argument at lunch and the way he finally stood up for his friends to Helga. A horrible realization seemed to come to him. "I—It can't be!" He shook his head again, "No, there's absolutely now way that—that . . ."

"That what, Gerald?" A voice asked from the doorway nearly making Gerald yell out loud. He turned startled at his open door where his mother stood, looking at him with a smile on her face.

"Oh, um hi, mom," Gerald said quickly and with a nervous voice.

"Well, you're home awfully early today, is anything the matter?" She asked Gerald, giving her that concerned mother look.

"Huh? N-Nothing's wrong? Why would you think that?" Gerald asked in a nervous way.

"Well there's the fact that you look very ill," she said walking into his room and toward him. "Are you running a temperature or anything?" She placed a hand against his forehead.

"Mom, I'm not sick," Gerald said looking at her. "At least, not like that."

Mrs. Johansson sat down beside him and looked down at him. "Gerald, please tell me what's wrong. Are you in some sort of trouble? Maybe I can help?"

Gerald looked at her and sighed, "I'm not really sure what you can do about it, its sort-of, um, a girl problem." _That's putting it mildly, Gerald ole boy, _he thought to himself.

His mother just smiled and rolled her eyes, "Oh yes, and of course as your mother, I wouldn't know anything about girls." She looked back down at him serious now. "Gerald, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, I know that at your age girls can be a bit awkward to be around for a boy . . ."

Gerald blinked and looked at her strangely. Then he realized what she was going into and stopped her. "Um, mom, it's not that kind of girl trouble. I mean, it's a bit more, um . . . complicated."

"Oh? In what way?" She asked him, looking down at him carefully.

"Oh well um," Gerald was a bit bashful of the idea of what he was about to discuss with his mother, but she was here and he needed someone to tell this to. Still, he decided not to give her all the details. "There's this girl in my class, and she and I got into a fight today and then later on she threw some stuff at me and I threw something back. The next thing I know, I get this note from her that said she—er, well, that she liked me. I mean, that's just so weird isn't it?"

Gerald had been looking down at the carpet the whole time he told her that worried about giving away that he was holding stuff about kissing back. He looked up to see if she shared his confusion, but was not prepared for the knowing smile on her face. He thought for one moment that she just knew he'd been swapping spit with a girl, and began thinking about how he gave himself away—maybe too much mouthwash?

Then his mother began to laugh and shook her head. "Oh Gerald, it's not as weird as you might think."

Now Gerald was completely lost. "Huh?"

Mrs. Johansson leaned back slightly on the bed and explained. "Well, like I said before sometimes girls and boys your age can be a bit awkward around each other, especially when one of them develops a crush on someone. Sometimes they try other ways to get attention, rather than take the direct approach, because it could be embarrassing. Sometimes they might show they like you by starting fights, or making fun of someone, or picking on them. It might seem weird, but sometimes that can just be their way of saying they like you." She winked.

If his mother thought that any of what she just said would make Gerald feel any better, then she was sorely mistaken. If anything the ideas that she just suggested made Gerald's mind race very fast in a direction that he really didn't want to approach. "But what if that person does something like that, and then I did those things back?"

His mother chuckled and said, "Well then, Gerald, I think maybe this girl might think you have a crush on her too." She paused and then looked down at him with a motherly smile, "Do you have a crush on this girl?"

Gerald's eyes widened and his face turned slightly red. _"No way! Are you kidding? Not a_ _chance!"_ He fell back on his bed and put his right arm across his closed eyes again. "This is horrible!" The whole scenario his mother just outlined was a complete disaster.

He did stand up for Arnold and Phoebe. Then he got that note he thought was from Phoebe. Then he retaliated when Helga tossed a paperclip and rubber band at him and that must have just encouraged her. Helga had pushed at him today, and he pushed back. Those facts added to what his mother just told him about girls showing their love that way sometimes must mean that—O_h my gosh! Helga G. Pataki sent me that note! She got some weirdo crush on me and now . . . now I'm in a lot of trouble! The biggest bully in the fourth grade tried to kiss me – actually she did! AHHHH! _

Mrs. Johansson stood up and looked down at Gerald with a little sympathy. "Well, if you don't feel that way about this girl, just tell her in a nice way that you just don't share those same feelings for her." She turned and went to leave, pausing at the door and adding, "Just break it to her easy. Don't go being a heartbreaker so early." She chuckled at the cross look Gerald suddenly gave her and left the room.

Gerald just put his arm back across his eyes and groaned, drowning in his own self pity.

**To Be Continued . . . . **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Reactions and Misconceptions (Part Two) **

Helga never stopped running till she got up front stairs leading up to her house and slammed the door behind her. She leaned against the door gasping for air and feeling very sick to her stomach. Her heart was pounding very hard and very fast in her chest. Then she ran upstairs to the bathroom next to her own room and ran over to the sink and began to run some water. Helga then leaned over and took several mouthfuls and began gargling with it and spitting it back out quickly.

She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out two bottles of mouthwash—one was her dad's and the other her mom's. Helga never even bothered to measure the mouthfuls; she simply took one mouthful of each, gargled with it and spat it out. On the second mouthful, the memory of Gerald's tongue mixing with hers caused her to nearly throw up—and also caused her to swallow the last mouthful of the strong mouthwash. It burned going down and this time Helga did gag. She did manage to make it over to the toilet before she threw up. That burned going back up also, but that was the least of Helga's worries.

After rinsing off her mouth in the sink again and splashing some cold water on her face, she went quickly to her room and closed the door behind her and threw herself on the bed on her stomach. All she wanted to do now was close her eyes and sleep forever, anything to keep away the terrible memories and emotions that were eating away inside her right then. The memory of her grabbing Gerald and pulling him into the closet was still very vivid. She could still remember the feeling she got when her tongue mixed with his . . .

She let out loud squeal and put her hands over her face, tears threatening to appear in her eyes. Nobody who knew Helga G. Pataki would have recognized her if they saw her. She was one of the toughest bullies at P.S. 118 and perhaps one of the meanest kids in the whole forth grade, but right now she was neither tough, nor was she mean. Right now she was in a state of near-hysterical panic.

"T-This can't be happening!" Helga said aloud to herself, her voice nearly squeaking with anxiety. She was sweating all over with perspiration. Her mind was alive with images that built on her emotional turmoil. "Oh what have I done?! I can't believe this is happening to me?!" She lifted her head up and looked at the wall, her mind still locked into replaying over and over the memory that she couldn't seem to shut off, no matter how hard she tried.

"I—I kissed another boy! And not just any boy . . . Gerald Johansson! And not just on the lips, I French kissed Arnold's best friend!" She shifted to lie on her side and both of her hands grabbed hold of both her pigtails and pulling on them, as if trying to rip them out. Tears filled her panicked eyes now. _"I kissed another boy . . . OH CRIMINY, I—I CHEATED ON ARNOLD!"_

Despite the fact that Arnold and Helga were not technically together, and only recently managed to get on more friendly terms, Helga never once in her life ever considered another boy for her other than her beloved _football-head._ As such her only daydreams and attentions have always been directed at Arnold, never once forsaking him in her thoughts (except when he annoyed her or made her angry). She never once entertained the idea of loving, or doing anything else with any other boy she'd ever known in all of her wildest, or dizziest fantasies, not matter how far-fetched they turned out to be.

Now things were different. Now Helga had actually kissed another boy on the mouth, and not just that she'd even taken that kiss further than she'd ever gone with Arnold. Now her thoughts were no longer purely just about Arnold and her love for him, now they were filled with thoughts about that one terrible, disgusting kiss . . . one that she kept remembering that she actually _liked_ at first, before realizing that something was wrong.

Helga began to sob and shake badly on her bed, torn apart by the loss of her innocence, her pure thoughts about her beloved Arnold. In many ways she now felt irrationally guilty, as if she had indeed cheated on him somehow.

She looked over at her closet, still crying and she sat up and made herself stop. Helga then wiped her face with her hands and stood up, walking to her closet door. Her hand actually trembled as she turned the doorknob and opened the door walking in. She closed the door behind her and turned on the light inside, then pulled back her clothes and the curtain behind them to reveal her latest Arnold shrine. It was indeed a great work of art, made up of nearly two thousand bottle caps all glued together by colors to the exact shape and size of her beloved Arnold. A row of nearly two hundred white Christmas lights set up behind it gave it an almost heavenly glow.

On any other day, Helga would have basked in the sight of the monument to her football-headed love god, imagining that the two green bottle caps that she used for his eyes were Arnold's own green eyes looking down at her warmly and—dare she thought it at the time—with love. Now though, Helga's imagination was wild and she imagined those green caps glaring right through her, as if he could now see the dreadful act that was even now replaying in her thoughts, though she tried to push it away and bury it.

Helga dropped down on her knees before the shrine, lowering her head too ashamed to look at her image of Arnold, sick to her now empty stomach and very afraid that somehow the loving image of Arnold she thought of him as would condemn her through the bottle cap idol.

"Oh Arnold, my beloved," Helga said in a still teary-sounding voice. "What have I done? I have committed the ultimate transgression against you! Somehow I—I kissed another boy that wasn't you . . . but I didn't _know_ it wasn't you! I was supposed to be you, but it wasn't. It was your best friend Gerald that I kissed instead of you, my angel of love."

Now Helga looked up at the bottle cap statue and so wild was her imagination that she _did_ think the image of Arnold gave her a reproachful look in response. "Oh forgive me, my Arnold! It's you that I love, you and no other."

She closed her eyes again trying hard to focus on her warm daydreams about Arnold and her own memories of kissing him those other times before.

Unfortunately her own sweet daydreams and memories of previous kisses were overshadowed by the memory of her first French kiss that day. The memory of Gerald's tongue missing with her own, and the way she initiated the whole thing was alive in her mind in all its glorious detail. Helga opened her eyes and shook again, this time not even daring to look up at her image of Arnold as she backed out of the closet and closed the door.

"This is a total nightmare," Helga said aloud to herself in a nearly teary voice. "No matter how hard I try I can't even get that stupid thought out of my head!" She went back to her bed and lay on her back looking up at the ceiling. "Criminy what the heck happened earlier? I mean first I get into a fight with Gerald-o in the cafeteria and he throws green gelatin on me—okay maybe I started it, then I shoot a paperclip at him and then the jerk throws a paper ball with an eraser in it at me, then I get a note from Arnold to meet him in the closet and when I go there I end up kissing Gerald?! I mean, what in the-"

Helga stopped in mid-sentence as something else came to her. It was a memory of her conversation with Arnold in the hallways after they'd run into one another before and she asked him what he was doing out of class: _"Oh I came to return Gerald's science book to his locker for him."_

Now Helga's eyes widened as that new fact seemed to bring everything else into focus. "It was Gerald's book that had the note! We got them and our papers mixed up and Arnold must have put it in my book by mistake! So that means that . . . that it wasn't Arnold who wrote me that note!"

Her mind quickly remembered all the extra attention Gerald had been giving her that day, retaliating against her own actions . . . or was it more than that? Helga blinked and the idea that now came to her was ridiculous, but made the most sense to her since. It was an idea so horrible she had to speak it aloud to deal with it.

"Gerald wrote that note! He and I have been fighting all day since lunch and he must have . . . Oh criminy! What if by doing those things back to Gerald made him develop some weirdo crush on me?!"

The more she thought about the idea, the more sense it made and the more dread filled her every being. Helga stood up and began to pace in front of her dresser. "Oh this is just perfect! I spend six years trying to tell Arnold I loved him, throwing spitwads at him, calling him names and showering him with attention—even if it was negative mostly—and in just two hours _Gerald_ is the one who falls in love with me?! He even sends me an anonymous note and asks me to meet him in the make-out closet at school!"

She paused for a moment to look at her slightly red face with her now puffy red and blue eyes and blinked. "I mean, granted he does have good taste in girls—but still it's not him that I love, but now he's writing me notes and crushing on me! And worst of all it's not even just some other boy, its Arnold best friend!" She leaned on her arms against her dresser cursing the hand that fate decided to deal out to her. "Oh what a disaster!"

_**To Be Continued . . . . **_

_Sorry it took longer to update than I wanted. Next chapter, Arnold and Phoebe call their best friends and more misunderstandings are coming their way. Stay Tuned! –D.R. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Phone Calls and Best Friends**

Not long after Gerald had his startling revelation about Helga, the telephone downstairs rang. A moment later, Mrs. Johansson knocked on his door and said, "Gerald, telephone call, it's Arnold."

Gerald sat up quickly and looked at the door, blinking over and over. His mind raced quickly. _Arnold? Oh man, I totally forgot about Arnold! We were supposed to go to the arcade after school! _Out loud he called out to his mother, "I've got it!" Then he took a deep, calming breath and picked up the phone, "Um, hello?"

Arnold's voice came over the receiver sounding a bit concerned. _"Gerald, what happened to you? You disappeared after you left class?" _

"Oh um, s-sorry about that, man," Gerald said tugging at his collar uncomfortably. "I um, had to go home right away, something bad happened. Something _really_ bad, man."

"_What happened? Is everything okay?" _

Now Gerald paused indecisively wondering if it was in fact a good idea to tell Arnold what happened. He knew that Arnold was honest and was a very good friend, but he just wasn't so sure if he was very good at keeping secrets, especially after the incident with Iggy and the bunny pajamas. That secret Arnold hadn't meant to get out, but he was unable to keep it secret and other classmates of theirs figured it out.

Gerald wanted absolutely _nobody_ to know about what happened with him and Helga. He would take that secret to his grave before he would tell. If word of it ever got out around school, then his entire reputation would take a devastating hit and everyone would laugh at him and make up names and embarrassing songs.

Not to mention he'd never be able to look Phoebe in the eyes again.

As if thinking of the girl he loved were enough to invoke her to others, Arnold went on. _"Me and Phoebe and looked all over school." _

"Phoebe was helping you look for me?" Gerald blinked and suddenly he felt both happy and anxious at the same time. Happy that Phoebe helped search for him and anxious that Phoebe might suspect what happened.

Then Arnold put a damper on the happy aspect a moment later. _"Well, she was actually looking for Helga. Apparently she disappeared after school too and she was worried about her." _Gerald felt a bit of disappointment and yet some relief over that. Phoebe didn't seem to suspect anything and neither did Arnold.

Thinking quickly so that Arnold wouldn't get suspicious, Gerald came up with a lie. "Well um, I had to rush home because . . . err, because um . . . I uh, had to—to help Timberly with her science project." Right after he said that, Gerald knew what a lame lie it was.

Arnold's voice sounded slightly dubious as he responded to that. _"Science project?"_

"Uh yeah, you know . . . um, one of those exploding volcanoes, made a real mess all over the kitchen you know?" Gerald added, trying to cover his story and let out a somewhat nervous-sounding laugh.

"_Gerald, is everything okay?" _Arnold sounded concerned now.

Gerald thought about it a moment, wondering if maybe he could sort-of tell without actually telling. "Hey Arnold, um supposed you did _something _with _someone_ who you thought was someone else, but it was something you only wanted to do with the first someone, and yet _somehow_ it ended up happening with the someone else, but yet you liked it for a moment, but only because you thought you were doing that something with the someone else, but still liked it, um before you _knew_ you were doing that something with someone else? What does it mean?"

There was a pause and then Arnold's confused voice asked, _"Um, Gerald, what exactly are we talking about?" _

"N-Nothing!" Gerald said quickly, now totally chickening out of the conversation. "Anyhow I gotta go, man. Jamie-o wants me to help him change the oil in his car. You know how that goes, every three thousand miles. Bye." He thought he could hear Arnold calling his name just before he pushed the button and set the phone down.

Gerald lay back down and sighed. He hated lying to Arnold, but he had no idea how in the world to solve this whole Helga-crush dilemma that he now found himself in. "Oh man," he said and covered his face with one of his pillows, once more wallowing in self-pity.

* * *

At the same time, over at the Pataki house, the phone rang there as well. Helga barely heard it since she also had a pillow over her head, trying in vain to forget about that terrible, disgusting kiss—which her traitorous mind kept insisting hadn't really been all that bad.

There was a knock on her door and Miriam's voice said, "Helga honey, phone call for you."

Helga sat up and picked up the phone on a table near her bed. She was fully prepared to tell whoever it was to go away because she was in absolutely no mood for a conversation. "Um, hello?

"_Helga, it's me, Phoebe,"_ her best friend's mousey voice said from over the receiver. _"Are you okay?"_

"Huh? Oh um yeah sure, I'm okay, why do you ask?" Helga said very quickly, trying to cover up the fact that she was definitely_ not_ doing okay.

"_Well because after you left the classroom, I went to go to the nurse's office to check on you and they told me you never went by there." _Phoebe explained to her.

"Oh," Helga forgot all about her little fib to Mr. Simmons and was now caught in her own lie like a deer in the headlights. Thinking fast she covered, "Well, I was feeling _really_ bad and so I just decided to go home and lay down some."

"_But Helga, you just said that you were feeling okay?" _

_Criminy! _Helga thought, caught in another lie. "Um, w-well I got home and lay down a bit and now I feel okay, you know its one of those one-hour flu things. Maybe it was that disgusting lime gelatin they served at lunch today." She let out a nervous giggle.

"_Oh, I see," _Phoebe said a bit slowly and sounding uncertain over the line. _"Well I'm glad that you're home and feeling better. Arnold and I were concerned about you." _

If there were any words at all that would have broken through Helga's despair at that moment, it was those. Helga blinked and a smile crossed her face. "Arnold was worried about me?" Her heart skipped a beat.

"_Oh yeah he was when I told him I couldn't find you. He was also looking for Gerald. He disappeared also." _

Helga's sunny feelings suddenly clouded over again and her heart skipped another beat, but not in a good way. "Oh, um really?" She sat on the bed and her shoulders sagged.

"_Yeah, and I was a bit distressed by that also. You didn't by any chance run into Gerald before you left did you?" _

Now Helga felt her heart stop beating all together at those words. She was panicking now. What if Phoebe or (heaven forbid) _Arnold_ found out about that little closet mix-up?! So to cover up her anxieties, she did what she usually did, she got angry.

"What?! Um n-no! I didn't see _Gerald-o,_ and I don't care if I ever see _Tall Hair Boy_ again after today!" Even though she said it implying the other incidents, she definitely meant the last part. She had no idea how she would hold it together if she saw Gerald again right away.

Phoebe sounded a little cross when she spoke again. _"Helga, I appreciate the fact that you are not happy with Gerald after your latest altercations, but above all else he is still a fellow classmate, and Arnold's best friend. I think you need to come to a truce with him." _

"Yeah well, I'll be perfectly happy as long as Gerald-o stays the heck out of my way next time I see him!" That part was perfectly true. No way she could face him again after before. It would be too much. Worse yet, face him in front of Arnold!

Over the speaker Phoebe sighed and then said, _"Would it be okay if I came over to talk for awhile?" _

Helga blinked and then said, "No! Um, I mean I'm still feeling a little sick."

A pause and then Phoebe asked confused, _"Um Helga, I thought you said you were feeling better?" _

Thinking fast, Helga said, "Um . . . yeah, well I think it might be a relapse, you know."

"_Helga, you didn't even get to _eat_ anything for lunch today,"_ Phoebe said just then, sounding confused.

"Ugh! I'm about to barf! Gotta go!" To add to the effect, Helga made a retching sound and hung up.

Helga lay back on her bed and rolled on her stomach burying her head in her arms. "What a nightmare," she muttered to herself as she cursed her own existence.

_**To Be Continued . . . . **_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: A Plot Between Best Friends**

Arnold was worried about his best friend. Gerald's behavior earlier had been to put it mildly strange. Not only did he skip out on hanging out that evening, but when Arnold called him, Gerald sounded completely out of sorts. It wasn't like him.

_It must have been all that stress with Helga,_ he thought as he lay back on his bed looking up at the evening stars overhead. Helga was certainly enough to stress a person out, a fact Arnold was all too familiar with.

Thoughts about Helga Pataki were often enough to give Arnold either a headache, or another feeling since saving the neighborhood that he really didn't want to consider at the moment. Of course sometimes those feelings would pop up when he least expected, and with them the memories of several long kisses and a confession that still made his heart pound every time he thought of it.

Still those feelings aside—even though Arnold confessed to himself that sometimes he didn't want to push them aside—he always knew that deep down Helga wasn't the bully that he thought she pretended to be. It wasn't any one thing that convinced him, but several smaller things over the years. Her friendship with someone like Phoebe and those occasions when she did the right thing no matter the cost to her personally were among the few most important. In them Arnold saw beyond the scowling and the sarcasm and saw something much more underneath.

He sighed wishing that Gerald could see the other side of Helga that he could, the tenderness beneath the mask Helga put up to hide herself from the world. Arnold wished that both of them could get along somehow. He cared about his best friend and—though the idea was still a bit of a surprise to him at times—he cared about Helga a lot too.

Arnold was just about to thing more about _those_ feelings when the phone rang. A moment later his grandpa knocked at the door. "Arnold, you have a call from a young lady." There was a teasing quality about his grandpa's tone when Arnold opened the door and went to the phone.

_A girl calling me? _Arnold thought surprised. Granted he knew several girls in his class but they never called unless they were doing a project with him for school or something. He took the receiver from his grandpa, ignoring the teasing smile the old man was giving him and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"_Arnold, it's me, Phoebe."_ The mousy, meek-sounding voice said on the other end.

"Oh hey Phoebe, is everything all right?" Arnold asked this because he remembered how they were looking for their best friends before.

"_I'm not really sure, Arnold,"_ Phoebe answered sounding a little thoughtful. _"I called Helga when I got home and she was there. Apparently she just went home after leaving class. She sounded really strange, like something was bothering her."_

Arnold blinked hearing that. "That happened when I called Gerald's house also! When I got home I also called and he was there. He sounded really off also, like something was bothering him."

"_You don't suppose that Gerald and Helga got into another altercation sometime during the last period do you?" _Phoebe sounded as worried for the both of them as Arnold felt.

"I don't know, but it sounds as likely as anything else," Arnold said and then sighed. "I really wish that the two of them could get along better."

"_I agree Arnold, these confrontations are not good and they can only escalate and get worse. I'm afraid that they could do something that both of them may regret later on." _

Arnold thought for a moment then that familiar far away look came to his eyes when he was putting together one of his bold plans. "We can't let that happen, Phoebe. They're our best friends and we care about them both. We have to do something to make them see the other one's better sides."

"_But how can we do that, Arnold?" _

"I have an idea, Phoebe. Tomorrow morning you pick up Helga and I will meet Gerald and we will both meet up on the corner of Lang and Purdy streets. We will all spend the day hanging out together and make them both see that the other isn't so bad once they get to really know better. We'll stay with one of them so that they will not start another fight and head off any trouble if it starts. How does that sound?"

"_Do you believe that will work?" _Phoebe sounded a bit dubious.

"To be honest I'm not sure, they can both be stubborn, but it's the best thing I can think of and I'm desperate."

"_Same here Arnold. I don't like watching them fight."_

Arnold nodded in agreement. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow we stick to both of them and make them spend time together. Let's just hope that we can show them that the other isn't so bad."

"_I hope so, Arnold. I really do." _Phoebe said still sounding dubious, but determined to try.

* * *

That night Helga lay in her bed in her nightgown determined to come up with a way to rid herself of the thoughts that were plaguing her all evening. Everything kept reminding her of that awful kiss.

Helga almost gagged on the liver Miriam fixed for dinner when it reminded her of the way Gerald's tongue felt in her mouth. Later on, she flinched when Bob was watching some old show on television in the living room and the character on the show said, "One of these days, POW right in the kisser!"

The worst had been when she tried to write some poems about Arnold to try and take her mind off it and in her imaginings Gerald kept popping up and kissing her.

_Criminy! Why did it have to be Gerald-o who got a crush on me?! _She thought miserably, cursing her existence. _Why do I have to keep thinking about that stupid kiss! Why can't I just put it out of my mind?! _

She knew the answer to that, but she didn't want to admit it. The fact was that up until the moment she saw it was Gerald, Helga actually enjoyed that kiss. It was after all her first open mouthed kiss and it had been pretty good.

It was this knowledge that renewed Helga's feelings of guilt that she somehow cheated on Arnold.

_I don't want to think anything like that about Gerald! I love Arnold, not him! I want to have those thoughts about Arnold! I wanted my first French kiss to be with him! Criminy this is so unfair! _Helga almost cried again at those thoughts.

"What am I going to do about this? Think Helga! Tomorrow I'm going to have to see him again somehow. What if he tries to come onto me or something? What if he tells someone and embarrasses me in front of the whole school?" She sat up and hugged her knees thinking.

Then it occurred to her. Why did Gerald send the note in the first place? Because he was too shy to tell her about his feelings—even though there was absolutely nothing shy about the words Hot Lips.

_Wow he must have it bad_ _for me,_ Helga thought, although for a moment the idea of a guy being that obsessed over her was thrilling. Too bad the boy in question didn't have a football-shaped head.

Anyhow the point was that like her own feelings for Arnold, Gerald wouldn't want them to get around so he wrote her an anonymous note and made sure she got it. Why? To reveal his feelings to her alone and keep them between them of course. Gerald wasn't about to tell anyone else, probably not even Arnold—at least Helga desperately hoped not at any rate.

"That's it! All I have to do is stay away from him. Ignore him and then he will get tired of this crush and go away. Tomorrow I'll just have to make excuses and stay away from him till he cools off. Yes, that has to work!"

It did occur to Helga that for years Arnold ignored her and it didn't work, but that was irrelevant. That was true love; this was just some stupid schoolboy crush. Plus she wasn't worried, Gerald would get over her and move on to someone else and call them Hot Lips.

For a moment though, the thought did make Helga pause. She was actually concerned about Gerald's heart being broken by her? As she laid her head down on her pillow she considered that and again the kiss came to mind. This time though she didn't try to push it away. Helga thought about her own attempts to get Arnold's attention over the years and how most of those schemes backfired. A part of her was a bit annoyed that Gerald somehow came up with a plan to kiss her that actually worked while her own scheme to kiss Arnold once took so much effort. Still, she had to admit that Gerald-o had been cleaver.

The more she considered it the more she realized to her surprise that she did indeed now have a little soft spot for Gerald and yes, she didn't want to hurt him too bad. Her own experiences with love reminded her of what sort of pain you opened yourself up to.

Never the less she resolved tomorrow to ignore him till he got the message that Helga G. Pataki's heart wasn't up for grabs. And if that didn't work, well then she could always flatten his nose—that at least would be less painful than heartbreak.

* * *

Somehow that evening Gerald managed to brave down a little ham and vegetables for dinner, despite the fact he wasn't all that hungry. Mostly he did it because he didn't want things to seem out of the ordinary, especially with his mom who still gave him knowing smiles every once in awhile.

Gerald was worried that she might bring the subject up and ask that he invite his new "girlfriend" over for dinner right there in front of his dad, Jamie-o and Timberly. The idea was enough to make him cringe every time she opened her mouth.

Thankfully his mother seemed to understand his need for privacy—at least for the moment—and didn't say anything. None the less, when dinner was done he excused himself and went back to the solidarity of his room.

He lay back on his bed with his hands behind his head starring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. A couple of times he thought about trying to call Arnold again, but he would always chicken out, never getting any farther than taking the phone off the receiver.

He also considered calling Phoebe and talking to her awhile, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do that either. Even though it was irrational, Gerald couldn't help but feel in some strange way that by kissing Helga, he somehow went behind Phoebe's back. It was ridiculous to think that way since he and Phoebe were not officially anything more that school friends at best, not matter what his feelings for her were. He certainly didn't own her, and it wasn't like there hadn't been other girls. A sixth grade girl named Connie, Arnold's French pen pal, Cecile (the real one) and Chloe "the liar" sprang into mind a moment before he pushed them aside.

The difference there was that despite all of his ladies man routine that he pulled with Arnold; Gerald had never really done much with any girl before. A simple chaste kiss on the cheek from Connie after a sixth grader dance was the most he'd gotten from a girl prior to the ill-fated closet lip lock with Helga.

Those other girls were distractions at best and at worst potential heartbreakers. Phoebe was good to talk to and he enjoyed flirting with her because he felt comfortable around her. There was no challenge to be with her, she enjoyed his company for him and that was enough.

Gerald didn't believe the simply liked Phoebe because she was convenient. He knew how he felt, but somehow—despite all of that—he still couldn't tell Phoebe he wanted to be her boyfriend somehow. Maybe it was a part of him that couldn't endure teasing from the rest of the class, or maybe he just felt comfortable with the way things were that he hesitated.

At least until this afternoon when he thought he was finally going to get a serious kiss from the girl he wanted.

Any ideas he had on what would have happened after that flew right out the window now and Gerald was in a huge mess with Helga G. Pataki. The idea made him feel really sick all over again. So far he managed not to throw up at the idea of kissing that loud-mouthed, pigtailed tomboy who had about as much in common with femininity as Harold had with being a size seven.

Gerald still couldn't believe that Helga send him a love note. If it hadn't been for the actually kiss and how good it had been—not that he wanted to think about that—Gerald would have been certain that the whole thing had been a plot on Helga's part to get even for all the stuff he did to her today.

Yet the idea that his mother gave him about how picking on someone could also be interpreted as a sign of affection, or a desire for attention wouldn't leave his mind. Could it really be that fighting back against Helga somehow made her develop a crush on him?

On the surface of it the idea still seemed silly. _Heck, if that were true then Helga must have been in love with Arnold for the last six years or so since she picked on him all the time, and Harold's been in love with almost everyone in the class,_ Gerald thought, smiling a little to himself at the ridiculousness of either of those ideas.

Still, Helga was a bully and she did things to get attention because she loved pushing everyone down. That was just how she was and always had been.

Or so he always thought.

Arnold and Phoebe's words about Helga came to his mind again, about how she wasn't as bad as she seemed and deep down she had a more tender side. As he considered those words the memory of that lingering kiss filled his thoughts and abruptly his heart began to pound remembering it was his first real kiss . . . .

"NO!" Gerald said sitting up and stopping the thought before it got any worse—or worse yet, he started thinking about something he had no business considering. He had to do something about this, but what?

Then he thought about what his mom said again about how such attention led to affection. Picking and affection—affection from attention—attention equals crushes and . . . and . . .

"That's it!" Gerald thought and a smile appeared on his face. "If Helga got a crush on me because I focused my attention on getting back at her, then all I have to do is ignore her and avoid her like I always do! All I have to do is stay away from her and she'll move on and get over this stupid crush on me!"

"Ohh, someone has a crush on Gerald!" A small girlish voice said from the doorway. Gerald looked over wide-eyed as Timberly's head peaked into the slightly open door looking at her smirking in that all-too knowing way whenever a sibling has dirt on another.

"Timberly, get out of my room!" Gerald shouted, looking at her annoyed. He started toward her to get her to shut up.

Timblerly laughed and said, "I'm telling Jamie-o! Gerald has some girl crushing on him! Kissy smoochy!" Gerald ran after his little sister, feeling the need to wish he was an only child again.

* * *

At PS 118 after hours of futile pounding on the door, Curly resolved himself to being as comfortable as possible till someone opened to door in the morning. He curled up in some old coats he found in a box and even found a stash of mouse-eaten crackers to munch on.

He resolved to find out what went wrong with his plan and to find a way to make Rhonda his girl. It was only those thought that kept him from going insane—or at least _more_ insane—in his mothball-smelling solitary confinement.

_**To Be Continued . . . . **_

_Sorry for the long delay football-head fanatics, but certain unavoidable problems kept me off the computer awhile. Haven't been able to catch up in a couple months but I will do my best to have things updated soon. This fic has but a couple of chapters left. What do you think will happen next when two different sets of plans clash? Let me know. Read and Review. As soon as I get ten reviews I will get the next chapter ready to post. D.R._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten: An Awkward Morning**

1

Gerald woke up the next morning after what was a less than restful night's sleep. He'd dreamt that Helga bullied him into having a relationship with her, making him buy things for her and take her places, then forcing him into closets and then kissing him aggressively as she had the day before. It caused him to wake up on at least two occasions and made going back to sleep next to impossible.

He dressed slowly and then went and ate breakfast barely tasting it. He also tried to ignore Timberly and Jamie-o, both of whom kept smirking at him and teasing him about having some girl crushing on him. Gerald could not have left the house any sooner and quickly made his way to Arnold's house.

Arnold was already waiting for him outside of the boarding house on his stoop when Gerald walked up. "Morning, Gerald," the football-headed boy said and then looked at him a little surprised and asked, "What happened to you? You look terrible."

"Oh, uh . . . I didn't sleep very well last night, man. My mom made some beef stroganoff that didn't turn out very well, kept me up half the night with stomachaches, you know?"

Arnold just nodded and seemed to be thinking as they walked toward school. He kept looking ahead at the corner of the block as if waiting for someone. Gerald, being to intent on forgetting his nightmares and "the kissing incident" was far to distracted to notice—at least not until they reached the corner and came face to face with Phoebe and Helga.

2

Helga's night had not been any easier than the one Gerald had. She also had a nightmare that caused her to sleep restlessly. Her dreams were worse; because in them she was caught being kissed by Gerald in the closet by Arnold who looked totally betrayed and said that he never wanted to see either of them again. The dream version of Gerald didn't seem to care and wanted to drag Helga back into the closet for more of their one-way make out session. The last part had her screaming Arnold's name and watching tearfully as he walked away, the whole time being dragged into the closet by a laughing Gerald.

Helga couldn't sleep anymore after that, so she again tried to write more in her notebooks before her shrine to Arnold, only to end up drawing a blank, and ending up with a small pile of paper balls that she'd tossed into the corner. She threw the notebook away in anger and then fell asleep on the floor of her closet before her shrine, determined to start out clean tomorrow—if she ever felt that she could feel clean again.

She wasted no time getting dressed and then leaving the house the next morning. Helga only munched on a little breakfast to keep her going since she did not have much of an appetite and still felt sleepy somewhat.

Helga left her house and Phoebe waited for her at the bottom of her stoop. The small girl blinked seeing her friend. "Helga, what happened to you? You look terrible."

"Oh um I didn't sleep very well last night," Helga said evasively. "Insomnia, I ate something that didn't agree with me."

"You didn't eat pork rinds before bed again did you?" Phoebe asked, half concerned and half amused.

Helga actually smiled a little at the rare inside joke from Phoebe, not least of which because it reminded her of Arnold and briefly took her thoughts away from kissing Tall-Hair-Boy. "No I didn't. Miriam decided to cook liver last night."

That explanation led to a lengthy discussion from Phoebe about the nutritional attributes of beef livers and chicken livers, which Helga let go in one ear and out the other. Her minds was firmly stuck on the dream that she was trying so hard to forget about.

In fact she was so focused on forgetting about it that she didn't notice that Phoebe was leading her in the opposite direction. When they turned a corner they ran into Arnold and the absolute last person that she wanted to see right then.

3

Arnold smiled and nodded to Phoebe and Helga. "Hey Helga, hey Phoebe." Phoebe nodded back, "Good morning, Arnold and Gerald." She shared a small grin with Arnold, who winked back. Their plan was now in motion.

Gerald and Helga, on the other hand, were both suddenly wide awake and their hearts were beating hard inside their chests. They stared at the other and both of them suddenly went red-faced. The all-too-vivid memories of the day before came bubbling to the surface as they faced the object of their anxieties.

Both of them pointed an accusing finger to the other and shouted, "What the heck are you doing here?!"

Arnold answered, "Were walking to school together, would you girls like to join us?"

Gerald looked at Arnold alarmed, "Hey man, that's not really–"

Helga started to say something to avoid that particular torture, but never got a chance to because Phoebe cut in before she could do more than open her mouth.

"That would be quite nice," Phoebe answered with a grin. "Wouldn't that be nice, Gerald?"

Gerald looked at Phoebe and a great wave of guilt went through him. He felt as if he were somehow cheating on her with her best friend. In her presence, and seeing the look of trust on her face made it even worse. He blinked and said, "Oh . . . uh, s-sure, I guess so." Phoebe blinked at his reaction, but smiled that he agreed anyhow.

Arnold looked at Helga and said, "Um, may I carry your books for you, Helga?"

Helga blinked and looked over remembering that Arnold was there. Again that knot of guilt in her stomach came to her, stronger now seeing her beloved looking at her so innocently, with no idea of what happened. The feeling that she'd cheated on him was almost unbearable and she did her best to shove it down. Without thinking about even trying to cover her usual feelings for him, she said, "Uh, s-sure Arnold, you can."

Arnold blinked at her for not calling him "football-head" or "hair-boy" or something else like she normally would but smiled at her acceptance and took her books from her hands.

Together they walked to school, though Arnold and Phoebe walked a little bit ahead of Gerald and Helga, who kept glancing at one another and then looking away when the other noticed. Both of them did their best not to look the other way, uncomfortable every step of the way. Arnold and Phoebe tried to engage them in conversation, however they were so distracted with their racing thoughts neither of them could follow anything their best friends said. Arnold looked at Phoebe concerned that their efforts were not working and that Gerald and Helga were just being stubborn. Neither of them noticed how their best friends made it a point not to look at the other, or the flushed looks on their faces.

To be Continue...

_Next chapter we find out what happened with Curly. Gerald and Helga's looooong day has just begun. Stay tuned! ~DR_


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